Vertigo
by hermionegarner
Summary: Previously entitled "The Past". Melanie Primly was in an accident four months ago which gave her amnesia. She can't remember anything about her past-until she sits next to a red-haired boy on the plane, one who also got amnesia four months ago...
1. Recollections

Previously entitled "The Past"

**CHAPTER ONE: RECOLLECTIONS**

MELANIE PRIMLY was a curious child. She had mossy brown hair and had brown eyes. She had two brothers, one named John who was married with three kids, and Keith, who was 16, yet she looked nothing like them or her parents. Just four months ago, she was in an accident that caused amnesia; hence everything before then remained a mystery to her. Her parents told her she loved singing and went to the private vocal academy down the street. She was accepted to a college in London for the arts, but chose one in America instead. She was told that she had a boyfriend named Mark who lived next door and visited her every day, and a few months after her recovery he proposed to her.

Even when told of these things, however, she had no recollection of them. Her parents were devastated. Melanie tried to remember, watching home videos nonstop, but nothing helped. True, Mark seemed familiar, but somehow, when he had her in his arms, she felt like pushing away. Was it just something she had to get used to again, or was there something else she didn't know about?

Above all else, strange things happened when Melanie got angry or frustrated, or even extremely happy or determined. Once, when she was mowing the lawn, she remembered wishing it would all be done so she could shower, and suddenly all the grass was cut. Another time, Keith was being extremely irritating, and all of the sudden a baseball came flying through the window and knocked him in the head. That hadn't been her favorite incident, but it was just one of the many mishaps that happened around her.

As she neared her nineteenth birthday, she prepared to leave for college. Mark would be going with her, but attending a separate university; he was going into accounting. Her parents, Keith, John, his wife, and all three of his kids accompanied the couple to the airport, all smiles as Melanie prepared to go through security for the first time she could remember. After kissing them all good-bye, she boarded the plane.

Melanie did not like heights at all. Her family said it was probably a side effect from the medication she had to take because it had never bothered her before. She accepted this excuse for a while, but decided one day to stop taking her medication—it hadn't been helping her remember anything, so why bother? She was surprised to find that she still couldn't stand being in the air, but didn't mention anything to her parents.

Maybe the accident caused it. Her parents said the accident was caused by a plane's engine collapsing during a landing. Was that why she was so uneasy? Whatever it was, it didn't help that she was in the window seat, sitting next to a complete stranger; Mark hadn't been able to buy two seats directly next to each other and was sitting about ten rows behind her. She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep as the rest of the passengers boarded the plane, but still found herself stifling a scream as the aircraft lifted up from the ground.

After take-off, she finally had the courage to take notice of her surroundings. A mother was sitting directly in front of her, with two children in the seats next to her asking for snacks. There was an airline magazine in the pocket of the seat and she gladly took it; reading always seemed to calm her down. As she did so, she accidently brushed elbows with the man sitting next to her and looked up at him to apologize, but found herself at a loss for words.

Instead of speaking, she took in everything about his appearance. He had bright red hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Judging by how outstretched his legs were, he also seemed to be rather tall. Melanie had never seen him before but yet, she felt some odd shock pass through her body when she looked at him. There was something familiar about him, as if they had known each other…

A voice broke her concentration; "Would you like anything to drink, dears?"

"I'll just have water, please," responded her seating partner. She recognized his voice, too…

"I'm not very thirsty, thank you," she said, smiling. After the attendant left, he turned to her and stretched out his hand. There was a strange look in his eye, as if her was searching her, but not finding what he wanted. She could hardly bear to look into his eyes. They were so warm and welcoming.

"Henry Kindle," he grinned, introducing himself.

She grasped his hand, trying so hard to figure out where she had seen his crooked smile before. "Melanie Primly."

* * *

Henry stared silently at the girl next to him. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar, as if they had known each other…before 'the accident'.

Henry had no family that he knew of. Four months ago he found himself inside a hospital–and he didn't know who he was. He couldn't remember C_anything_, not even his own name. After three days of lying in a hospital bed, a man came in and insisted to see him, saying he was his best friend, Mark Taylor. Henry recognized Mark but had a strange feeling that he hadn't liked him.

Still, Mark gave him a solid identity, instead of just hazy memories. According to Mark, Henry was a star soccer player. This was reinforced by members of the team, no matter how poorly Henry played. For some reason, he felt some sort of disdain to the sport, which didn't help him improve. The coach insisted he would get better as time wore on and he recovered more fully from 'the accident'.

'The accident' seemed to be unknown to everyone. Mark had mentioned something about a fall, but nothing else was said. The only thing Henry could remember were lights flashing everywhere–particularly green ones. He hadn't mentioned the fact that he remembered anything to anyone—he didn't really want to talk about his actual memories with anyone, especially Mark. Mark always avoided his questions, anyway.

He had, however, informed Henry that he was attending some obscure university in the United States and that they would be rooming together. He wasn't necessarily happy about his roommate, but at least he could get his mind wrapped up in school instead of trying to find out who he was. Not that it would be easy to remember what he was supposed to have learned before going to college, but he could deal with it.

The most unsettling thing about Henry's loss of memory was the incidents. Every now and then strange things would occur when he was feeling any type of strong emotion; he didn't know if they had anything to do with his life before 'the accident' and he was dying to know what was happening. Once, while playing soccer, he wished that he could kick the stupid ball into the stupid net; suddenly, the ball was behind the goalie and everyone was staring around wondering what had happened. Henry searched for the cause just like everyone else, only later realizing that it must have had something to do with him.

At times, there were people on the street who would look at him with recollection, only to look away quickly, shaking their heads. Who were they? How did they know him? Could they tell him anything about his past? He desperately wanted to ask these questions, but they were always gone before he had the chance.

He'd had many instances when things would seem familiar or memories would come back to him in clouded images. Occasionally, Henry would feel slight déjà vu when in a certain place or meeting certain people, but never the way he'd felt it when he shook Melanie's hand. The more he looked at her, the more familiar her face was to him. He could remember (or envision, he didn't know which) what it looked like when she cried, when she laughed…as if he'd known her his whole life. But, of course, if he had been that close to someone, surely they wouldn't have needed to introduce themselves to him.

Perhaps he had known someone like her. Then again, Mark certainly would have mentioned it.

Well, maybe.

* * *

A/N: Well, what did you think? For those of you who have read this before, I just edited the story and changed the title, I didn't change any of the plot. (Though you probably wouldn't remember it anyway it's been so long!) Anyway, please review! :D


	2. Searching

**CHAPTER TWO: SEARCHING**

MOST GROOMS have a best man on the day of their wedding. Then again, most brides have a maid of honor, too. At this wedding, there would be neither.

Harry Potter was only eighteen and had just graduated from Hogwarts. Ginny still had a year to go, but with the risk of either of them getting killed each day, they decided not to wait. This choice was reinforced four months ago, when the two best friends they'd ever had were killed.

They knew it had been a risk, but they'd never really expected it to happen. Neither Hermione's nor Ron's body was found, probably because of all the curses being thrown in every direction. Harry hadn't even been in the forest–he'd been battling inside. Ginny saw everything, but obviously preferred not to talk about it. Both of them were trying to deny that it had ever happened, even though it was an impossible task.

So the big day arrived, which they would not be sharing with their best friends. Harry was excited and nervous, but mostly somber. Somehow, it felt like they were admitting defeat, that Voldemort had scared them into retreat. That they were finalizing the death of their friends.

Mrs. Weasley wasn't entirely happy about the wedding. She loved Harry and was anxious to have him as a son, she just didn't want them to rush into anything; with as young as Ginny was, she was feeling a bit uneasy. Ginny tried to tell her a thousand times that she was seventeen, a legal adult witch who could make her own decisions, but Mrs. Weasley just shook her head.

Harry happened to agree with her, for the most part. Ginny was the one who had pushed the wedding; Harry was completely content just to be with her and didn't find marriage an immediate necessity. More than this, he was scared that the significance of 'marriage' would make Ginny a prime target for Voldemort. As always, Ginny disregarded what he said and won him over in the end, something he assumed he would have to get very used to.

Harry sighed as he looked himself over in the mirror. Of course he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Ginny; he just didn't know how long that would be.

* * *

What could have happened to them? Where could they _be_?

He knew they were still alive. Somehow, they escaped after being stunned. They couldn't have done it alone, which meant that they'd had help, possibly from his side. _That _made him angry.

They were not an immediate concern; figuring out Potter was more important. He was onto something, that much was certain. Potter was smarter than to go running off without a plan. Could he possibly know…

No, it was impossible that Potter knew about His horcruxes. The secret was too well kept and the objects too well hidden for him to worry about the possibility of being defeated. He shook his head at himself, furious that he had thought for an instant that Potter might actually know his secrets. He was getting more paranoid by the day; why was this pitiful excuse for a wizard such an annoyance to him?

It was all the help he was getting from his _friends_. Those pesky friends that seemed to disappear into thin air. Potter probably believed they were dead just like everyone else, but he knew better. They were probably out there plotting some way to help his adversary in hiding, trying to sneak up from behind. They needed to be eliminated.

Which was why he needed to find them first.

* * *

Mark sighed with relief as the plane landed. He hadn't seen either of them throughout the entire plane ride, which made him extremely uneasy. Even when the passengers were leaving, he was unable to catch a glimpse of Melanie or Henry. He needed to keep an eye on each of them, and now he didn't know where they were.

As he entered the baggage claim area, he nervously scanned the area, searching desperately for any sign of either of the two. Henry would be easy enough to find; his hair was like a search light. But even though he knew he needed to find Henry, he was more concerned about Melanie.

Finally, he saw her. He swiftly headed in her direction, slowing as he approached. She didn't seem to notice him, and just as he was about to speak up and ask how her flight had been, Henry rushed towards them, Melanie's largest suitcase in tow.

"Is this the last of them?" he asked her, smiling.

"Yes, it is. Thank you, Henry, you've been a great help," Melanie grinned.

Mark stopped short, feeling himself start to panic. He should have checked their seats, made sure they weren't sitting next to each other—why hadn't he? Then again, it wasn't necessarily _bad _that they met, they were bound to eventually with the way things were going, but their memories…

Would they really be triggered just by seeing each other again? He doubted it. Relaxing, he strolled over to meet them.

* * *

Mark never ceased to confuse her. This man, Henry, was his best friend? How come she had never heard of him? And if Mark was _really _her fiancé, she didn't understand why his _best friend _hadn't heard of _her_.

Melanie sighed in confusion as she unpacked her belongings. The university really was quite run-down; she couldn't understand why she'd pick _this _place over anywhere in England. Mark said it was because she wanted to see more of the world. After the episode at the airport, however, she wasn't sure she could trust anything he said anymore.

Losing one's memory really is an inconvenience. You just have to accept what everyone around you says is true; if someone had told her the sky was pink when she awoke, she would've accepted it without a second thought, so she wondered. She wondered about everything: her past, her future, her family, her _fiancé_—

But most of all, Henry.

_Henry_. The name didn't seem to fit the face, though she couldn't even begin to explain why she felt that way. She would never forget the way he searched her face, the way his eyes bore into her soul; she couldn't figure it out. And yet, she had searched him, wanting to know his secrets, wanting to know _why _she felt so drawn to him…

She let out a breath in exasperation. She had long since forgotten about unpacking; she wanted answers. She was the type of person who wanted to know _everything_, and suffering from amnesia can really put that type of person in a bad mood.

One thing was absolutely certain: she knew Henry, she could feel it. He either didn't want her to know him anymore or didn't realize it himself, in which case he would have had to suffer a similar accident. Was it possible he was on the same plane that crash landed? Was it at all possible that they both lost their memories at the same time? And why did she feel that when it happened, they were together?

Not _together_, together, of course; she'd been dating Mark for over a year. Well, that was at least what everyone said; she didn't know anymore. Was that why she felt this longing for him? Had they been _together_, together, or was she just making a mountain out of a molehill? There were so many questions she wanted answered!

Finally, she resolved she would probe Mark tonight. After all, he would _have _to be honest with his future wife; there was no way she would even consider going through with it if she found out he wasn't. She'd seen the way he looked at her with excitement and longing and knew he wouldn't take that chance. She had the upper hand there, but desperately wanted more. She wanted more knowledge, a more concrete reason than a _feeling_.

She wanted a memory.

* * *

A/N: Well, what did you think? Please review! :D


	3. Desperate

**CHAPTER THREE: DESPERATE**

HARRY WATCHED Ginny slowly walk towards him. Merlin, she was beautiful! He'd always known that, of course, but she looked even more exquisite today, if that were at all possible. And it wasn't just her dress; she was absolutely beaming with happiness. That smile was all he ever wanted from her, all he ever needed.

He needed her to be happy.

She reached him after what seemed to be an eternity and Arthur placed Ginny's delicate hand into Harry's firmly. Mr. Weasley smiled half-heartedly, expressing his concern for his daughter without words, but also conveying his absolute trust in Harry. The two men exchanged a meaningful look, and Arthur nodded.

Ginny stood across from Harry and took both his hands in hers. He could have melted into the earth looking into those eyes; both were glowing with excitement, relieved that the day had finally come. They both knew that there were still many troubles ahead for them, even after Voldemort was defeated, but none of that seemed to matter now.

She would always be with him, forever. That was enough.

* * *

As the preacher began the ceremony, Ginny fidgeted. She was happier than she'd ever been in her entire life.

Except that her best friend wasn't here for it.

She sighed, picturing her face at this moment. Hermione would be beaming possibly more than Ginny; she was a _hopeless _romantic. She would have been absolutely giddy helping Ginny into her dress, doing her hair and make-up… Merlin, she would've been a sight to see! She almost laughed just thinking about it!

…Almost.

And Ron! He would've been even funnier! Letting his best friend take on sole responsibility for his baby sister would undoubtedly have been hard for him, even though he would not settle for anyone less. She envisioned his trademark smirk and knew that he would've been happy—no, _elated_, in the ceremony, no matter how much he teased Harry that he wasn't good enough for her.

She brought herself back to the moment, back to Harry's eyes. In them she saw the endless love that he had, not just for her, but for all of them. She also saw his concern and worries for her, which never seemed to cease, no matter how many times she proved herself. The recent incident in the forbidden forest hadn't helped any; she wouldn't be surprised if he confined her to their room for safety. But, it would be _their _room, not just hers. The mere thought sent shivers of excitement through her spine.

_Everything will be all right._

* * *

"Mr. Potter, do you take Ginevra Molly Weasley to be your wife, for as long as you both shall live, to love and cherish her to the end of your days?"

Harry smiled and slowly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. She shivered.

"I do," he said definitively. Her heart soared; it was about to be final, the utmost sign of their love. She could hardly wait to say those words in response.

"Miss Weasley, do you take Harold James Potter to be your husband, for as long as you both shall live, to honour and love him until the day you part?"

"I—" she began, but never got to finish.

Screaming was heard from the other side of the clearing, bringing the entire ceremony into an uproar. Ginny whirled to see death eaters rushing towards them, stunning anyone and everyone their wands could reach. She clenched her fists uncontrollably, and her scowl could have killed anyone or anything in her path.

They ruined her wedding day.

Instinctively, Harry pulled her to him, and they disapparated to what Ginny knew was Grimmauld Place, the only home Harry had left. She'd been doing some re-decorating, including covering up old Mrs. Black, in preparation for the two of them to move in together. They planned to stay here as soon as the war was over, and Ginny would _not_ have that woman screaming in _her_ house day and night.

Harry rushed her inside, quickly leading her through the unlit corridors towards what was set to be their bedroom, the only room that was absolutely finished. Once there, he sighed and let out a groan of agony. She knew what he was about to say before he said it.

"Stay here," he commanded.

It was not a suggestion, and she knew that there was no point to argue, but she tried anyway. "Harry, I _need _to be there! I won't sit on the sidelines and—"

"I WON'T BE THE CAUSE OF YOUR DEATH TOO!"

Ginny blinked in surprise. They were both silent. He looked deep into her eyes, pleading with his tortured soul, and she started crying. He slowly pulled her towards him, resting his hands on her shoulders, letting their foreheads touch.

"Please," he begged. She looked to the floor and nodded.

With a swift, but meaningful, kiss, he hurried out the open door.

* * *

Harry didn't stop to catch his breath until they were all gone, which didn't take very long. No one on either side was particularly hurt, but he was extremely satisfied that a good amount of the Death Eaters had were captured by the Order.

Not the smartest idea, attacking at Harry Potter's wedding; everyone on his side would be there. He smirked as he thought of how it was even _more _unwise to attack _Ginny's _wedding. If any of them crossed her path in the future—

But, of course, they never would. _No one _would harm her; not _one _Death Eater would even lay _eyes_ on her after today—after the forest. Whether she liked it or not, Ginny was _not _going to help him end this war; she was going to stay in their house until it was over. He sighed, knowing how impossible that would be to accomplish.

Still, it wasn't really _their _house yet. Ginny had not been able to complete her side of the vow, they had not exchanged rings, and they had not been pronounced '_husband and wife_'. He had not kissed the bride and they had not had an infuriatingly long reception full of gooey girl eyes and pitiful stares from bachelors.

So they weren't married. Harry was extremely relieved. He knew that marrying her _had _been a rash decision, just as Mrs. Weasley said, and extremely unwise. Yes, he loved her; yes, he would always be faithful to her; but the Death Eater's attack confirmed Harry's one true fear:

Now they would be after her.

* * *

Angrily, Ginny paced the room. Those _monsters_! How _dare _they interrupt her wedding? How _dare _they ruin her true moment of happiness? Hadn't they already tinted it enough, taking two of the most important people in her life away from her? But no, they had to go and _completely _destroy it! Stomp on it, drive over it, kill it, _murder it_! Those _imbeciles_! Why, if she ever saw them again…!

And yes, she _would _see them again. She already knew Harry's argument; they'd had it a thousand times before, but this time she was pretty confident that she would win. He definitely wouldn't be happy about it, but he couldn't deny her the only place she had _ever _wanted to be.

With him.

Ever since she was a baby she'd heard stories of the Boy Who Lived. She found him _fascinating_! The only true hero ever to walk the earth. She used to dream of meeting him, of him smiling and stealing her heart away, and then she did. She was barely eleven, yet she couldn't _breathe _when Ron introduced her to his famous friend. He smiled, and he did steal her heart away. It didn't help matters any when he rescued her from the Chamber; she only fell deeper under his spell.

The next year, she saw him eyeing that wench, Cho Chang. How she _hated _her! Of course, nothing _happened _between them for a couple years, but Harry was completely distracted the entire time. Ginny tried her best to be a loyal friend, one loyal to his cause, while hiding her emotions. She even tried dating, and although it didn't necessarily get her to stop thinking about Harry all together, she was able to keep herself in check. No, she'd never _really _fancied Michael Corner, but he had been nice enough. Dean Thomas was a git, but a very funny one.

When she did finally break up with Dean, it was only because she couldn't stop thinking about Harry _at all_! She cursed herself over and over for being so ridiculous, until the night after the Quidditch match…

Ginny sighed and smiled. The feeling of that first kiss would never leave her, the feeling of absolute protection, love, and absolute shock. It was the _last _thing she had expected, but it was the most natural thing in the world. None of their kisses could measure up to the feeling of utmost joy she had that day.

Unless she had gotten her way today.

At this thought, she immediately began scowling again. In the name of Merlin, she vowed she would kill Voldemort for it someday, or at least a fair few of his followers.

After what seemed to be an eternity, she heard steps in the hall. Sighing, she open the door just as Harry reached for the knob. They silently stared at each other, her in her wedding dress, him in his tux. She was ready, and he knew it. She would argue about his decision as long as she needed to, just until she got her way.

They stood there for a few minutes, both knowing what the other was thinking. She was surprised he hadn't already started the inevitable argument, but _she _certainly wasn't going to be the one to get the ball rolling.

After another eternity, Harry's eyes softened. He pulled her towards him and their lips met. It was tender, it was protective; it was guarded. She did _not _want him to be guarded with her, not now. She traced figures on his neck, pulling him slightly closer to her. He responded by firmly placing his hand on her back and pulling her even closer than before. He was still guarded, however, which meant that he was _not _going to forget about the discussion that was going to be had; he was only going to put it off for now.

Ginny realized that was all she could ask of him.

* * *

A/N: Please review! :D


	4. Memories

**CHAPTER FOUR: MEMORIES**

HENRY LOOKED over his new room, the one he would be sharing with Mark. Mark, the man who was his best friend, supposedly. The man who was engaged to Melanie. The man who was controlling his life.

It was absolutely true. Henry didn't know anything about his life, let alone his capabilities. Sure, he could chance going out on his own; he'd probably be able to handle it pretty well. He didn't need Mark to babysit him and give hints about his past life; he could find them himself. There was only one thing keeping him from leaving.

Melanie.

He _knew _he had known her. Her face would not leave his mind, but somehow it was not always exactly the same—she was younger in some of the images, proving he'd known her as more than just Mark's girlfriend. They'd only been dating for a year, and Mark _conveniently _forgot to mention her to Henry once he awoke. Didn't think Henry would care, probably.

Well, he was wrong. He cared more than anything. There was no rational reason why, except for her beautiful eyes and wonderful smile. It sent chills up and down his spine, and he didn't have a clue as to the explanation. The only thing he knew was that he could not leave Melanie with Mark. He could not leave her in danger.

* * *

Mark felt like kicking himself! How had he been so _stupid_? Of _course _they would meet each other if he was supposed to be close friends with _both _of them! He should've left Henry back in England, never associated with him after the accident. Still, something in his gut told him he wouldn't have been able to do that. But _why _did he have to pretend to be best friends with a man that he absolutely hated?

Melanie was a different story altogether. Although she had never known it, he always fancied her–but never as strongly as he did now. At first, he admired her nerve and her strength–she was a _girl_ after all and could _easily _break his nose; he knew this from experience. When the accident had occurred, his only priority was keeping her safe. True, he _might _have crossed some boundaries by pretending to be her boyfriend; that was _possibly _taking advantage of her amnesia. Still, he felt no guilt there, none at all. He loved her with a passion, and she would never have to know that she hadn't; she would fall in love with him in time.

But now _Henry _was brought into the picture. The way those two were looking at each other, he knew there was _something _going on in their heads, some sort of recollection of each other. He scowled. All he'd wanted to do was keep the two of them safe, unaware of everything that was going on. If they continued to be around each other, would more and more memories resurface? If they did, he would lose Melanie.

He _couldn't _lose Melanie.

* * *

Henry heard a soft tap on the door. Assuming it was Mark, he almost didn't answer, but when it repeated, he decided he'd pretend to be nice in case he _could _get any information out of him, although he doubted it. Mark was more sheltered than anyone Henry could imagine, and at the moment he seemed very upset about something.

He dragged himself over to the door and opened it slowly to see Melanie standing there with a chocolate cake, which Henry assumed was for her and Mark's one year anniversary of being a couple. Melanie smiled shyly and Henry felt his heart flutter, again wondering why. He'd only just met her this morning, but he felt as if he'd known her forever.

"Hi," he managed to squeeze out. She smiled again, that adorable smile.

"Hey, Henry, is Mark around?"

Henry's spirits fell. "No, I think he went to the gym."

To his surprise, her smile widened. "That's—well, that's fine! Do you mind if I come in?"

"Not at all," Henry replied, a bit shocked.

She strolled in with her cake and set it on the kitchen counter. She then bounced towards the beaten-up sofa and took her place on the right side of it. Henry smiled as he joined her on the left.

She looked around the room. It really wasn't all that much; bare walls, some odd pieces of furniture here and there; nothing really worth mentioning. Yet, she was taking it all in, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"I wonder why the two of you chose this place," she mused after a while. "It's even worse than _mine_!"

Henry laughed. "Don't ask me; Mark did the choosing."

She looked thoughtful. "Really?"

"Really. I might have had a say, but I don't remember."

She looked a bit surprised, but then composed herself. "You don't remember?"

"Nope."

She turned to look at him. Henry felt himself melt under her stare…

What was he _thinking_? He knew _nothing _about her! He tried to shake himself back into reality, but couldn't escape her gaze.

After a while, Melanie sighed. "I don't remember, either," she said quietly.

Now Henry stared. Could it be true? Could she have been involved in an 'accident'?

In answer to his silent question, she continued talking, "I lost my memory four months ago."

The room was silent. Henry could hardly breathe, hardly dare to believe it. After a full minute, he decided to respond.

"Me too."

* * *

Ginny sighed when Harry separated them only to bring her back into a strong embrace. She would never understand the way he felt, the burden he had to carry for everyone. It hadn't always been just him, but his support system had been torn apart. He was completely alone this time around.

He knew she wouldn't want it that way; he already knew exactly what she would say to him. If he had to, he would comply just to satisfy her and then lock her up in their room, letting no one but Kreacher in to give her food. If that was what it took to keep her safe, he'd do it. He was absolutely determined.

Not one more person would die because of him. Not one.

He slowly released his hold on her. Ginny stared up into his eyes knowingly. She knew him better than everyone else, better than even he knew himself.

She was all he had left.

This thought sent his mind overboard, realizing that now they really were after her, the _only _light in his life. Ginny must have seen the change in his expression, because hers changed from determination to concern. She stood up on the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek, whispering into his ear.

"Everything's going to be all right."

Harry just shook his head, leading her over to the loveseat. Once they sat, he took her face in his hands, looking her straight in the eye.

"No it won't."

Ginny sighed, the sigh she sighed when she thought he was being pessimistic.

"Harry," she began, searching for the right words in this change of atmosphere. "I know you're worried, but if you don't let people take the risk, you'll only get yourself killed and leave us to take care of the problem only _you _can take care of. You need help."

Harry pulled her close, softening the moment by tracing up and down her spine. She shivered once more; he loved it when she did. It let him know she was the tiniest bit vulnerable to change her mind in those moments.

He softly whispered in her ear, "I know…"

She looked up at him, surprised. That wasn't what she'd expected to hear at all. Harry smiled slightly, realizing he had the upper hand.

Then he continued: "But I don't need your help; not out there. There are plenty of people—"

"Oh, come off it, Harry!" she exclaimed, and he knew the gentle mood had been broken. "How many times do I have to _prove_ that I'm _not _the little first-year you rescued from the Chamber? I've _learned_, and I've _grown_, and _I can take care of myself!_"

Silence.

"So could Ron and Hermione," Harry breathed.

Ginny let out a grunt and stood up exasperated. "I'm not saying it's not possible that it could happen—"

"Then don't take the risk."

"If you never take the risk, you never get the reward."

"_What_ reward, Ginny?" He screamed. He'd been _trying _to be patient, understanding, loving, but she made it _so _hard!

She looked up to him and softly touched his cheek. "Being with _you_."

"_Merlin_, Gin!" He exclaimed, turning his head away from her. "You want to get yourself _killed_? They'll be after you now. That's why they were at the wedding, you know that? As soon as you were gone, they started leaving as well."

"Harry, they're not after me—"

"YES THEY ARE!" he was out of control. How could she not understand? "Their focus is to break me down, and if they could get you, they'd have me. They _know _that!"

Ginny stared at him, eyes wide. Had she _ever _comprehended the amount of danger she was in? She was in more danger than Ron and Hermione ever were, simply because he _loved her_.

"I love you Gin," he finally said, softly brushing her hair back behind her ear, "Please don't do this to me."

They stared at each other for a long time. He could tell she was at least _considering _his point. Finally, she sighed in defeat.

"All right, Harry," she whispered, leaning towards him. "For _you_."

* * *

A/N: What did you think of this one? I really hope you're enjoying it! Let me know!


	5. Decisions

**CHAPTER FIVE: DECISIONS**

"MY LORD, I have news…"

"_What is it this time, Wormtail?_"

"P-please, my Lord, I assure you it is the b-best kind…"

"_Then get ON with it!_"

"My Lord, we found him."

An evil smile of satisfaction showed itself on his lips

"_Bring him to me_."

* * *

Draco glared at Pettigrew when he came to 'fetch' him. The rat was nothing but a _very _lucky coward. He didn't deserve any praise or favor from the Dark Lord, yet he got it. The smile plastered on his face confirmed the fact that Wormtail thoughthe'd caught the culprit, the one who ran off with Granger and Weasley, protecting them. Draco had done some rash things in the past, but he wasn't _stupid_, and he would _never _have been stupid enough to get caught.

He had been missing for a while, which he knew would attract suspicion, but he was ready for anything they threw at him. He had been practicing his Occlumency; Voldemort wasn't going to get anythingout of him that he wasn't willing to share himself. He'd learned long ago that if you wanted any peace at all, you had to keep your mind private, even if it was the onlyprivate thing in your life. His father taught that by example, by the fear he instilled in him.

Wormtail smiled sickeningly. "Well, well, we are in trouble, aren't we, Malfoy?"

Draco just shook his head. "You might be after the Dark Lord realizes your mistake, but I, on the other hand, am streak clean of offense."

Wormtail scowled at him in response. Draco almost laughed out loud at how much pain this would cause the poor rodent; the Dark Lord hated being misinformed, especially when it had to do with something as critical as finding Granger and Weasley. Although he did not pity Pettigrew, he cringed thinking of how many times this coward would hear the word "_Crucio_" by the end of tonight.

It didn't take long for them to reach Voldemort's 'chamber', so to speak. It was the most gaudy sight you could imagine, filled with luxurious furnishings and highly decorative art. Most of the images depicted Voldemort's triumphs, as well as his plans for the future; although this was only a temporary hide-out, the Dark Lord treated it as if it were his throne room. He was about to take over the world, after all.

He smiled wickedly as they entered the hall. Wormtail, the sniveling rat he was, immediately fell to the ground to kneel before his Master. Draco almost rolled his eyes, but managed to curtly bow his head before raising it again. He needed to show a certainlevel of respect, else he would be killed on the spot.

"Draco," he began, standing with his arms wide. "Welcome back, brother! Where have you been lately?"

"Around," he replied curtly. He wasn't scared of his Master anymore; fear can only last so long when things are put into perspective. The things the Dark Lord had done to people were unspeakable, and until Draco tried to kill Dumbledore, he hadn't understood the full impact the Dark Lord had on the world and its captives. During this process, Draco also realized how much of a coward his Master was. He wasn't going to let on that he was now againsthis duty as a Death Eater, of course, but he didn't have to be afraid of someone who would send a sixteen-year-old schoolboy to kill an old Professor in their place.

Voldemort's smile widened at Draco's response. "We missed you, you know. We began to wonder if you'd had _second thoughts_."

"I can assure you, I have not," Draco replied, staring Him straight in the eye. "I was preoccupied with personal matters. I meant to return weeks ago—"

"_Liar!_" He exclaimed, his calm façade broken. "You _never _meant to return. Your _personal business _would have prevented you from ever doing it!"

Draco's eyes widened. "My Lord, I have no idea—"

"You cannot lie to _me!_" He yelled, stepping forward and hoisting Draco into the air by his collar. "I _know _it was you, _Draco Malfoy_. _You_ _betrayed us all!_"

He thrust Draco across the room in fury. Not even dazed, Draco stood to brush himself off. He was barely upright when the spell was cast.

"_Crucio!_"

He screamed and doubled over in pain. There was no getting used to the feeling of that curse, every last inch of your body aching and screaming in pain and protests, hearing each bone crack, each muscle rip. He hadn't been released from the curse for more than a second when he began to speak.

"My Lord, please listen—"

"_Crucio!_"

Voldemort slithered silently towards him as he shrieked in pain. When the curse was lifted, He grabbed his hair and pulled His face close. Draco felt like he would puke from the stench.

"_Where are his friends, Malfoy?_" Voldemort breathed through clenched teeth, almost in a whisper."_Why are you protecting them?_"

"It wasn't me, Master," Draco stated slowly. "My personal business had nothing to do with Potter's friends. Perhaps there has been someone else missing from your numbers?"

Voldemort eyed him thoughtfully, obviously trying to get through the barriers into his mind, but failing miserably. Draco almost smirked in satisfaction.

After another minute of consideration, the Dark Lord smiled again. "Then you wouldn't mind taking on a small task for me, since you are still a _loyal_ servant?"

"No, My Lord. I would be most obliged to your kindness."

Voldemort laughed. "Indeed, you _are _indebted to my mercy. I should kill you right now, but I'm willing to give you a second chance to prove yourself."

"Yes, my Lord, I will do anything."

"Oh, I _know _you will, or it'll be your mother this time, Draco," He threatened.

Draco felt the urge to punch him right then, but contained himself. Killing his girlfriend, Pansy, when he'd failed to kill Dumbledore hadn't been too much of a blow, but his mother was _not _going to die. She was the only person who'd ever cared about him, _ever_. He was not going to be the cause of her death.

"What is it you wish of me, my Lord?" he said softly.

* * *

Melanie shivered, remembering her conversation with Henry earlier this evening. They had both been victims of amnesia, and at the same time. She had a strong feeling that they were friends; the way he looked at her made it certain he felt the same, so who could dispute it? She and Henry Kindle had been the _best _of friends. In addition to this information, they shared that neither of them trusted Mark. It made her terribly anxious to see him, to confront him—to break up with him. How could you be engaged to someone whom you did not trust nor remember? Someone who's past you did not know?

Still, she was afraid to do it. In her recent dreams, he had frequently shown himself in a black cloak, ominously stalking towards her; she would be backed into a corner, unable to move, unable to breathe. The fear she felt when she awoke was not only fear of the nightmare, but fear of the unknown. Fear of Mark.

Suddenly, a knock was heard on the door, scaring Melanie half to death. She stood, walked towards the door, and hesitated at the knob. What if it was _him_? Was he really the monster she had encountered in her dreams? Would it be logical to let him in?

When whomever it was knocked once more, Melanie decided to answer. If something went wrong, someone would hear her scream, she was sure of it—the walls were extremely thin. She opened the door and gasped when she saw the creature standing in front of her.

"_Mark_!" she exclaimed in absolutely horror. "What _happened _to you?"

He was _covered _in blood and scares. His hair was an absolute mess, and Mark _hated _mess. He grunted and stumbled into the room, limping and cringing in pain. Melanie quickly retrieved her first aid kit; she didn't have to trust him, but he hadn't done anything to her that would make her not want to help him.

"What is going on?" she exclaimed as she began treating his wounds. Mark sighed and stared at the crooked ceiling thoughtfully.

"You can stop doing that," he said quietly.

She stared at him. "No, I can _not_! You're hurt! You should be in a ward or something—"

"No, I shouldn't," Mark said commandingly.

Melanie didn't dare argue anymore and stopped spreading disinfectant on his open cuts. She looked at his eyes and immediately knew he was troubled, and despite her previous fear, she was concerned for him. She softly touched his cheek and forced him to look at her, searching him for answers. She wantedto know how to help him, whether or not it was the right thing to do.

"What happened, Mark?" she whispered. He sighed once more and turned his face toward the open door. After what seemed to be an eternity, he spoke.

"We have to leave."

* * *

A/N: Well? I bit of a twist in the plot, huh? Let me know what you thought of it!


	6. Departure

**CHAPTER SIX: DEPARTURE**

SHE DIDN'T mean it. Sure, _he_ wouldn't know she was getting involved, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to help him.

It was the day after the 'wedding'. They spent the whole night talking and, when neither of them had anything left to say, they fell asleep in each other's arms. Harry was more worried than she'd ever seen him before, and he needed comfort, and she was glad she was able to provide him some for the time being. Truth be told, she never really thought Voldemort would be after her of all people, but obviously Harry thought about it a little too much. A big part of her thought he was being paranoid. They _were _in the middle of a war, so he did have a point, but how could he think she wasn't feeling the same way? Hewas in way more danger than she would everbe, yet he somehow didn't understand why she was constantly worrying about him.

It was because he was the 'Chosen One'. Yes, he was amazing, yes, he was the only one who could do this, but _not _because of destiny; it was because Voldemort chose Harryas his adversary, decided the paths their lives would take. Harry was nothing exceptionally extraordinary when it came to magical ability, he wasn't a brain like Hermione, and he didn't have _anything _to qualify him for this position of employment. It was just the family business.

But there was one big difference between how he ran it and how his parents had run it: Harry wasn't going to hide. And because of that, Harry wasn't even going to _think_ of starting a family yet.

Ginny sighed. This meant that she would be sent back to Hogwarts again this year; Harry was positive it was the safest place to go.

But she wasn't going to go to Hogwarts. Harry didn't have to know that, of course; what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. She was going to get help from Fred and George to escape the castle the first night. She was going to help find the horcruxes.

Hermione left all her notes and research in Ginny's dorm the night before the battle. No doubt Harry already knew everything, so she hadn't thought to mention them to him. All Ginny could hope for was to be able to find and destroy at least _one_, so he would finally stop worrying about her and she would be able to _help_. She wanted this over just as much as he did, if not more.

* * *

"What do you _mean _you can't help me out?"

"That's exactly what we said, Sis."

"And that's exactly what we mean."

Ginny moaned in frustration. "You don't _understand_! I—"

"We understand perfectly, Gin," Fred said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But we can't help you here."

"Why in Merlin's name not?"

"Because," George replied, smiling, "your fiancé got here before you did."

"WHAT?"

Fred and George laughed hysterically at the expression on their sister's face. "Look, if you'd got here first, we _might _have said yes," George said, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, it would've been a _blast_, Sis, but orders are orders," Fred shrugged.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. "_Orders are orders? _What does _that _mean!"

"Oh, we didn't tell you?" Fred sighed, "We've bought a place in Hogsmeade."

"And we'll visit every week."

Ginny's jaw dropped. "You've _got _to be kidding me!"

"Nope," George replied, laughing, "And Hagrid left Hogwarts to help with the Order more, so Charlie's taking his job."

Ginny almost screamed out in frustration. He was locking her in, giving her no options of escape.

"Where's Harry?" she finally managed to say.

Fred and George looked at each other, confused. "He left about an hour ago—"

"He said he wasn't going to be back until it was over."

Ginny stared at them. The sudden truth of it hit her like a ton of bricks. Harry was gone, and he wasn't coming back for a _long _time.

He was possibly _never _coming back.

* * *

"Where are we going?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Yes it _does, _Mark. Where are we going?"

"_Will you stop asking that?_"

Melanie slouched in the passenger seat. They'd left immediately; she hadn't _any _idea why, but something in his voice had told her not to argue, despite all her better judgment. She wasn't really afraid of Mark anymore, though; she was afraid of who had hurt him.

"Mark—" she began softly.

"Look, Melanie, I _can't _tell you where—"

"What happened tonight?"

Mark closed his mouth deliberately and stared straight ahead at the road. He shook his head slightly. "It's not important."

"Goodness, Mark, _yes it is_!"

"You don't have to know—"

"YES, I DO!" Melanie screamed, suddenly furious. "I'm _supposed _to be your _fiancé_, am I not? Well, I have news for you—I'm not marrying someone who's going to lie to me my whole life, someone that I can't trust."

Mark's eyes widened, but he kept his composer, still ignoring her question.

"_Someone _obviously did this to you, Mark," Melanie breathed, trying to coax him into telling her everything. "Why?"

Mark sighed, obviously very troubled. He took a glance in her direction and said, "Because I love you."

Melanie blinked. "_Excuse _me?"

"They hurt me because I love you," he repeated, "and because I'm Henry's friend. The two of you—well, all three of us were involved in something _very _dangerous before your accident, Melanie."

Melanie stared at him. "What sort of thing?"

Mark groaned. "Look, I've said too much already, okay? I can't—if I tell you, you'll be in more danger than you could ever imagine, Melanie."

"I'm not in more danger being left in the dark?" Melanie retorted. "Mark, how am I supposed to defend myself if I know nothing about who they are or what they want from me?"

Mark took her hand in his and squeezed it gently. "That's what I'm here for."

"What about Henry?" she asked, pulling her hand away.

Mark seemed to put on a slight scowl. "Henry can take care of himself."

* * *

It was 9:00 A.M, and Henry hadn't seen Mark since noon the previous day. Not that he was worried about him, but he was suspicious and wanted desperately to know what he was doing. If he hurt Melanie in any way—

He smiled remembering her visit. Yes, it was confusing, but things had come into perspective; they knew each other before, and Mark didn't necessarily want them to know that. Mark was trying to keep them apart.

Mark had caused the accident.

That was the _only _explanation for everything he and Melanie were feeling; neither of them trusted him at all, so it was only logical that he _shouldn't _be trusted. And since he was the only person whom Henry had made contact with from his previous life, aside from Melanie, he thought he had complete control over everything Henry did.

He was wrong.

After another hour sitting around the apartment, he grew very anxious. What if something had happened? He hurriedly picked up the phone in an attempt to get a hold of Melanie. No answer. Worried, he grabbed a jacket and headed outside, deciding to check her apartment. After a ten minute walk and a five minute cab, he arrived at her building.

Anxiously, he sprinted up two flights of stairs and down the hall. He reached her room and knocked on the door. When he didn't receive an answer, he tried to doorknob and felt fear grip his heart when it turned easily. He hurried inside to see her closets completely empty, her unfinished dinner sitting on the kitchen table. Everything was _gone_. There was a note on the desk, hastily scribbled, and Henry recognized the handwriting; not from anything he remembered recently, but from _before_. He snatched it up, skimming over the words.

_Henry,_

_Mark said we had to leave. I didn't want to argue. I don't know if he made you go somewhere too, but if you're reading this, please come find us. He won't tell me where we're going, but I have a feeling I don't want to be there alone with him. I think we're taking his car—an old Toyota Camry he bought from a dealership when we landed. I don't know what other information I could give you to help you find us, but somehow I know that you will._

_Thank you for being there for me. I know we'll figure this out–together._

_Love,_

_Melanie_

Henry crumpled up the paper and threw it across the room in a rage.

He took Melanie.

* * *

A/N: Again, let me know what you think! I love writing and I love hearing what people thought about my writing! Review! :D


	7. Discovery

**CHAPTER SEVEN: DISCOVERY**

"HE'S YOUR _best friend_, Mark!"

"Melanie, will you just—"

"_Why won't you help him?_"

"STOP TALKING ABOUT HENRY!"

Melanie stared at him, open mouthed. He knew he'd said the wrong thing; she could remember her friendship with Henry now, that was certain.

"Look, I'm sorry Melanie—"

"Stop the car."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. _Stop the car_."

"Melanie, I can't do that—"

"_In Merlin's name, STOP THE CAR!_"

Suddenly, a huge ruckus was heard as the tires blew out and the engine flew from the car and landed on the side of the road. Mark stared at Melanie, who was completely shocked. Not only had her magic been released, but he knew she hadn't a _clue _who Merlin was.

"You haven't been taking your medication," he accused.

Melanie stared at him, dumbfounded. "And what is my _medication _supposed to keep me from knowing about myself, Mark? That I cause things to spontaneously break when I'm angry?"

"I can't—"

"Oh, SHUT UP!"

He did. The next thing you know, _he _could be the one in pieces, not the car. Melanie opened her door forcefully and began walking in the direction they had come. After a moment of confusion, Mark got out of the car to follow her.

"Melanie, you can't get back that way."

"Yes, I _can._"

"You'll only get hurt if you go back!" he pleaded.

"I don't _care_! It couldn't hurt any more than knowing that the one person you were _supposed _to trust more than anyone took _complete _advantage of an 'accident' that caused you to lose your memory!" she whirled around, more angry than he had _ever_ seen her, including all those times at Hogwarts—

"You were never even my boyfriend, were you?" she hissed through clenched teeth, her eyes widening as she realized that what she said was in fact true.

Mark gaped at her, feigning surprise. "Melanie, yes I _was_, I've always loved you—"

"I _said_, SHUT UP!" she was breathing heavily now, and he _knew _another outburst of magic was coming. "I just want to be as _far away _from _you _as possible!"

"Melanie, NO—!" He reached out for her, but it was too late.

She disapparated.

* * *

Harry stared up at the stars. He had really done it–he left her. He knew he would have to, but after everything that had happened, he didn't want to let her out of his sight. Despite her word, he _knew _she was going to try something, which was why he stationed three of her brothers up at Hogwarts. Percy agreed to regularly check on her as well.

The previous night had been the closest thing to heaven on this earth. They hadn't gone too far with their romances, but the feeling of holding her in his arms, of her lips on his—he didn't ever want to forget that feeling. He spent the night memorizing her touch, the feeling she gave him, letting her know how much he _loved her_.

When she fell asleep in his arms, he knew it was time to leave. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her forehead lovingly. She would never fully comprehend how much he loved her, not even if he made it out of this alive. But even if he didn't, _she _would.

That was when he'd spoken to Fred and George. Charlie had already agreed to be Care of Magical Creatures professor after the Death Eater attack, which Harry was extremely grateful for. Those three were the most likely to help Ginny go against her word, and he had them all on his side. It was extremely comforting knowing that she would be _safe_.

He sighed, bringing himself down to where he was right here, right now. There was a _lot _of work to do. What he wouldn't _give _for Hermione's notes! He searched everywhere, but there was no trace of them. It reinforced to him that from now on, he was completely alone.

He was certain about only three of the remaining five horcruxes: Hufflepuff's cup, Slytherin's locket, and Voldemort himself. The two assumptions were something from Ravenclaw and Voldemort's snake, Nagini; they already destroyed the diary and Dumbledore had destroyed the ring; he remembered from Hermione's research that Ravenclaw had a diadem, which Voldemort no doubt would've been only too happy to get his hands on; but there were so many different directions to go in! He decided that he would start with the locket. As soon as he found out who R.A.B. was, he would at least have some clues as to where the _real_ locket was.

He groaned. This was why he needed Hermione's notebook–she had so many ideas in there, she could write a novel on theories about Voldemort's horcruxes. Not only that, but right before that battle in the forest, she had excitedly exclaimed that she _knew _who R.A.B. was, but before she could elaborate, they had attacked. It never occurred to Harry that he wouldn't have her insight with him during the rest of his journey.

At this, his thoughts turned to Ron, his first friend, his _best _friend in the world. Although he didn't always exercise it, Ron provided Harry with so much insight. Three minds were _definitely _better than one; they all had slightly different perspectives and therefore were able to piece together the puzzle _a lot _quicker than anyone working alone. In addition to this, Ron was sort of the 'comic relief' for the three of them; whenever he felt the atmosphere was too serious, he would do something absolutely ridiculous, causing Hermione to pout in disapproval only to laugh seconds later.

Yes, he needed help, but they were the only people he had ever trusted to give it aside from Dumbledore, and now all three of them were dead.

No, there was one more person; someone Harry never would've thought of in the beginning, but someone who had definitely earned his place as a Gryffindor, someone who had proven himself over the past three years over and over again. The only other person who could have been chosen to fight the Dark Lord aside from Harry. It seemed only fitting that they should fight him together.

* * *

Melanie opened her eyes and immediately threw up all of her dinner. She had _no _idea what happened, but she was no longeron the road yelling at Mark. She was in the middle of a bustling city unlike any she had ever seen, or at least could remember seeing. Wide eyed, she stared at the buildings all around her, so vibrant with color, so full of detail. It was like walking into a fantasy land.

Her eyes popped open when she comprehended what she was seeing. There were children wearing black cloaks and carrying mountains of books and…cauldrons? There were brooms—_flying _brooms all over the place! It was like one big Halloween party, but she had _no idea _how they were making the brooms fly. At the end of the street was a humongous, white building with gold letters spelling 'Gringotts' all over the front. All around her were signs for mysterious items such as Bubbotuber Puss, Howlers, and Liquorices Wands. There was a store called The Owlery and a place down the street with the sign for Ollivander's Wands.

She sat on a bench, rubbing her head as she did so. She must have tripped over something as she turned to yell at Mark. There was no way any of this could be real!

And yet, something about it seemed oddly familiar...

* * *

Mark stared at where she had been. This was _not _good, not at all. She was gone, and he had no way to find her.

But he had to make sure Voldemort didn't find her first.

* * *

A/N: Yet another plot twist? What did you think? Was it well written? Anyway, review! :D


	8. Prisoner

**CHAPTER EIGHT: PRISONER**

"OF _COURSE_, Harry! Did you really think you had to ask?"

Harry smiled at Neville, his spirits rising. It felt _so _good to have a friend alongside you, to know that you weren't alone. Neville was morethan happy to help, and Harry knew he would be; he had always been a strong Gryffindor at heart, and would nevergive up in a fight.

"When do we leave?" he asked, grinning.

"Now, if that's all right," Harry replied.

Neville's smile widened. "Great! I'll grab my stuff!"

He was gone and back within two minutes. Harry stared at the small bag over Neville's shoulder, confused.

"Neville, we're not going to be back for a _long _time—"

"I know," he said, still smiling. "Hermione taught me a spell to create something like a bottomless bag; I don't remember exactly what she called it. I've been ready to leave for months now. You never know when they could attack."

Harry stared at the bag with sadness in his eyes and sighed. Hermione had done thesame thing the year before, preparing for the day they would have to disappear. He had a feeling that a lot of Neville's tricks and ideas would be modeled after Hermione's; she had been somewhat of a private tutor to him, and he had really improved with her help. Harry understood, but it would only make it harder to keep his friends off his mind.

"All right," he said with confidence, shaking off his thoughts. "Let's go."

Neville practically skipped out of his house. He was very strange; nothing made him happier than fighting for a good cause, especially one as big as this. Harry could tell that he would be a great auror someday, assuming he made it out of this alive.

But of course Neville would survive; Harry would make sure of it. No one else on his side was going to die in this war. It would all come down to just him against Voldemort.

And that was what was always destined to be.

* * *

Henry returned to his apartment, fuming. He had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to follow a generic car in one of a million possible directions to find a seemingly normal boy and girl on a road-trip, but he knew he had to try. He took only essentials, stuffing them into a small grocery bag hastily. He didn't know what to do once he found them; all he knew was that he had to save Melanie.

Before he could even start his search, however, he heard a loud popping noise behind him. He spun around to face two of the strangest looking people he had ever seen, each wearing a menacing, dark robe and a mask to cover his face. They held wands in their hands, poised for a duel.

What was he _thinking_? Wands? Duels? It didn't make any sense that these thoughts were going through his mind.

And yet, it _did_.

Suddenly, Henry wanted _his _wand, he wanted to fight. These people were not friendly and they were not there to help him find Melanie. They were there to _kill him_.

As if in response to his silent thought, one of the figures raised their wand in Henry's direction.

"_Stupefy!_"

Henry dodged the spell with agility and started running past the two men as fast as possible, taking every turn he could in hopes of throwing them off, but he knew it was futile; no one could outrun magic.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, there was another pop and they appeared in front of him once more, blocking his only exit. Henry stopped and stared at them for a moment.

"What do you want?" he said loudly, trying to attract as much attention as possible from other people in the building.

The two figures looked at each other, seemingly confused. He took advantage of the moment and ran between them, catching them off guard. He wasn't fast enough, though, and was soon lying on the floor face-down, petrified. As he lay there, unable to move, he listened to the conversation intently, trying to figure out who they were and why they seemed so familiar.

"He really doesn't remember who he is! Draco was telling the truth!" exclaimed the first man, surprised.

"Maybe he's just pretending. I'm not convinced Malfoy is still on our side," the second man replied. He was the man who had first tried to stun Henry.

"He _was _right where he said he'd be, wasn't he, Professor?"

Henry could almost _feel _the second man scowl. "Never mind, Zabini. Just bring him along."

They were silent now, but Henry felt chills go up his spine. There was something dark at work here, something that he had no control over. Something completely evil.

And he was a prisoner of war.

* * *

Melanie began walking in a daze down the street. She noticed people start to stare at her as she walked by, their jaws almost reaching the floor. She didn't really care why, all she wanted to do was take in the marvelous, even _magical _scene around her.

Suddenly, a man, no, a _giant_ grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her into the air. She screamed, completely taken off guard. To her surprise, he wrapped one humongous arm around her in a hug that nearly killed her.

"_Hermione! _Where 'av you_ been? _We all thought you were dead!" he exclaimed, excitedly.

"_Who in the world are you?_" she managed to say through scattered breaths.

"Wh-what? Yeh can't be serious! Hermione, it's me, Hagrid!"

"My name is _Melanie_," she replied, although she wasn't quite sure anymore.

The giant seemed to be getting annoyed. "What'cha playin' at? Yeh've been missin' fer four months now, you and Ron. Where is 'e, eh? He prob'ly putcha up ter this, I'm bettin'."

Melanie caught her breath. "Does _Ron_ have red hair, and a lotof freckles, by any chance?"

"Hermione, yeh know him better than I do! O' _course _'e does! He always has!"

Everything suddenly became clear. The last four months of her life had been a complete lie; she thought she knew who she was, but nothing was the same anymore. Both she and Henry–or Ron as the giant called him–had been played as pawns by Mark. Her name was _not _Melanie Primly. It was Hermione. There was only one problem:

She had no idea who Hermione was.

* * *

Ginny sat on the train, alone in her compartment. She refused to sit with her brothers; they were so infuriating! Besides, this gave her time to plan her escape.

But her solitude didn't last for long; almost as soon as the Hogwarts Express began moving, Luna Lovegood strolled in and smiled at her warmly.

"Ah! I was wondering if you were going to be here! I thought you would stay with Harry, now that you're Mrs. Potter and all. Sorry I couldn't make it to the wedding." she said.

"The wedding was interrupted," Ginny said, scowling. Luna nodded and sat down.

"By Death Eaters, right? I thought that would happen. That's why father didn't want me to go. But why aren't you helping Harry?"

Ginny sighed. "Because he's—"

"Worried you'll get hurt?" Luna interrupted. "I thought as much. He's ever so thoughtful, but he really is rather overprotective."

"I'll say," Ginny muttered.

Luna suddenly smiled, an idea obviously forming in her head. "You wanted to go with him."

"_Obviously!_" Ginny exclaimed.

Luna smiled wider. "Then why don't you?"

She blinked. Was it still possible? Could she sneak away?

"How?" she asked, leaning forward.

Luna's eyes were bright with excitement. "Thestrals, of course!"

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "You think that would work?"

"Absolutely! I know all of them–all I'd have to do is call them."

She smiled in understanding. "You want to go too?"

Luna was practically beaming. "Oh, Ginny, I'd _love _to!"

"All right," said Ginny, laughing. "We leave tonight."

* * *

A/N: Yay! Hagrid found Hermione! Happy day! Anyway, let me know what you guys thought of it!


	9. Confusion

**CHAPTER NINE: CONFUSION**

MELANIE–OR, Hermione, as she was to be called now–gawked at the newspaper in front of her. It wasn't just because the pictures were moving and the articles were printed in every which direction, it was because _she _was pictured on the fifth page, standing next to Henry–or, Ron–and a man with black hair, glasses, and a lightning bolt scar.

At the sight of this familiar face, a glimpse of the past rushed through her mind; she saw an image of the most hideous face imaginable, one which was reminiscent of a snake, followed by an image of the black-haired stranger in the paper. Many other people were in the area, watching, green jets of light passing between the two men in front of them—

She shivered as the eeriness of not knowing what she was up against set in. The giant, Hagrid, had informed her that she was a witch, of all things, who had spent seven years at a school for magic. And, according to him, she was involved in a war; a war against the most powerful Dark Wizard that had ever lived.

Furthermore, she was a key player in it.

Melanie–Hermione–returned her attention to the paper in her hands. She needed to know more about herself, facts, not just hazy memories of the past. She began to read the story, looking for anything that might help her remember her previous life.

_UNTIMELY DEATHS: Hermione Granger (above center) and Ronald Weasley (above right), best friends of the both famous and infamous Harry Potter (above left) and prime motivators in his battle against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, were pronounced dead, this first of May, on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, along with four of their colleagues and friends at the school*; due to absence of concrete information concerning their deaths, it is believed that the six classmates committed suicide…_

She stopped reading, disgusted. Hagrid warned her that this particular paper, the _Daily Prophet_, was not very supportive of the cause she had been involved in. The only useful information she gathered from this article was the name of the stranger pictured with her and Henry.

Harry Potter.

She shivered again. The name seemed so familiar it could have been her own, yet, she couldn't discern his place in her life. She set down that paper in her hands and picked up the next publication on the pile next to her.

The next article was much more helpful. It came from a magazine called the _Quibbler_, and although the pictures were still moving (which was slightly unnerving), Melanie could immediately tell that the publisher of this magazine was completely devoted to the effort she'd supported; there was a similar picture to the one in the _Daily Prophet _on the cover, and, it seemed, thousands of pictures of Harry Potter throughout its pages, all with captions such as, 'End the War', or 'Finish the Dark Lord', or 'Join Dumbledore's Army' (even though she didn't know what that was, it sounded powerful in some way). The cover said in bold letters: **A MARTYRDOM AT HOGWARTS**.

Eagerly, Melanie turned to the page listed on the front cover to find a huge picture of herself staring back at her, smiling, and another of Henry. There were pictures of four others below, and she assumed these were the four additional classmates who had died. But how had they died? How did people think she died?

She read the article with much more attention this time, searching for answers:

_**THE MARTYRDOM OF OUR DEAR FRIENDS AND HEROES, HERMIONE GRANGER AND RONALD WEASLEY**_

_May 1: At the most recent Battle against the Dark Lord and his followers on the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, two of the most loyal members of the Order of the Phoenix fell by the hands of merciless Death Eaters in the Forbidden Forest, along with four other noble fighters for the cause. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were among the first to join Harry Potter and organize Dumbledore's Army; they will be remembered for the rest of time for all they have done for our magical world…_

Melanie read the rest of the article, intrigued. When she was eleven, she met the mysterious Harry Potter and helped him stop the Dark Lord, or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or whoever he was, for the first time, and since then had been a continuous aid to him whenever trouble arose. She had been a top student at the school and received the highest marks for her O.W.L.'s and her N.E.W.T.'s, which she could only assume were magical-based tests. There were many stories of things she had helped Harry with, but not much information about her family or her life.

Still, it was a start.

* * *

The train finally came to a stop. It was dark and cold outside, but Ginny could get used to it; after all, she would have to if she was going to be on the run. Luna was skipping next to her; nothing dampened that girl's spirits! She was always happy, always positive, especially when she had friends.

As they neared the carriages, Ginny listened for Hagrid's booming voice to echo off into the night, but didn't hear it. Instead, Charlie's amplified voice soared over the heads of the students, guiding the first years towards him.

"First Years! Follow, me, please! Gather 'round here, everyone!"

She frowned. She didn't particularly _want _to go against everyone's wishes or send them into worry, but she knew that she had no other choice. This was as much her fight as it was theirs, and she wanted her shot.

She _had _to help.

Luna climbed into the horseless carriage in front of them. Of course, Ginny knew that they weren't actually horseless, they were just pulled by thestrals, which you could only see if you've seen death—

She did a double take. There was _nothing there_!

It didn't make any sense! She sawthe curse hit Ron, she saw him fall, and she saw Hermione rush towards him, only to be struck down as well; the image would never leave her mind. She had seen death!

_Then why couldn't she see the thestrals?_

"Luna," Ginny asked, shaken. "Where are the thestrals?"

Luna poked her head out of the carriage and looked, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Right there, as always, Gin. I thought you'd be able to see them."

"So did I," Ginny replied, shaking her head. There was only one explanation for this, only one way it was possible the thestrals were still invisible to her: she hadn't seen death. It seemed an absolutely impossible answer, but a new light of hope sprung up inside of her as they hurried towards the castle.

_Are Ron and Hermione alive?_

* * *

Mark didn't know what to do. There wasn't any particular reason why he should be feeling guilty; in fact, he'd often wondered if he'd ever had a conscience to begin with. But the way she looked at him, with so much concern for him when he was hurt, and then for Ron when he was in danger, pierced his heart. He didn't deserve the immediate kindness she granted him, he didn't deserve any of her pity.

So, he felt guilty. He felt guilty for lying to her, he felt guilty for yelling at her, he felt guilty for taking away her memory, he felt guilty for taking her away from her family and friends.

But most of all, he felt guilty for leaving the one person she had ever loved to die.

He knew that if he left Ron alone he'd be found; he knew he couldn't survive on his own, not without his memory. And he had left him without any protection, just as she had accused.

Still, why should this upset him? He was never _really _friends with Ron, yet he felt a need to keep him out of harm's way, to prolong his death for a time, at least until he and Hermione could know the truth, until Mark's conscience would go away again.

He had to find her, to confess all that he'd done, to tell her the truth. However confusing and illogical it was, Hermione had changed him, had made him want to be a better person than he was.

And he was finally up to the challenge.

* * *

A/N: So what did you think? Did you like the bit about the thestrals? If you've read any of my other stories, you know that I use thestrals constantly. I really love them as a symbol and I find them fascinating. Anyway, let me know what you thought!


	10. Trapped

**CHAPTER TEN: TRAPPED**

HENRY FELL unconscious not long after the two strangers assaulted him. When he finally awoke, he was in a dismal chamber, in what he could only assume was a cave of some sort. He stood up and hit his head on the ceiling; these people were _not _trying to be hospitable.

He heard a voice coming from somewhere close by, the voice of someone _very _angry. Hoping to uncover any information at all, he sat silently listening to the conversation.

"But we captured the boy, my Lord—"

"_Where is the GIRL?_"

"She wasn't there, my Lord, but rest assured we will—"

"_SHE is more important than that idiot of a mudblood-traitor! GO FIND HER!_"

Pause. "Yes, my Lord."

Henry heard footsteps coming in his direction and pretended to still be asleep on the floor, opening his eyes just enough to see the man passing by. He was one of the men who had attacked him, but now he wasn't hiding his face with a mask. He had greasy black hair and a permanent scowl on his lips, causing Henry to shudder with recollection. He could feel that this man was evil, that he knew him before and had experienced his unpleasantness.

The next person to pass by was much younger, the second person who had captured Henry. He too was very recognizable, and he stopped in front of Henry's cell, smirking.

"Too bad the little Weasel doesn't remember anything," he said, almost laughing. "If he did, we could torture him to get information."

"Come, Zabini," the first man said commandingly.

Zabini scowled and turned to leave. "I do believe, Professor Snape, that you do not enjoy my company."

The first man scowled, but did not turn. "Not at _all_, Mr. Blaise. Now, _come!_"

Blaise Zabini rolled his eyes and followed Snape down the corridor. Henry sat up, staring at where they had been, letting memories flood his mind.

They were both from school. What school he did not know, but Snape had been a teacher there and Zabini another student. As he envisioned them in his mind, he often saw _Mark _with Zabini, confirming everything he had been suspicious of.

_Mark was trying to kill Melanie_.

Yes, he was trying to kill Henry as well, but that was hardly important.

_Melanie would not die._

The first voice he heard, asking about 'the girl', had no doubt meant Melanie. The voice had sent chills up his spine, causing him to shake in fear. _This _voice was _pure _evil, unlike Snape who was only partly evil. He obviously wanted both him and Melanie dead, but Henry didn't know what for. He wished their names had been said, to give him just one more trigger to delve into his lost memories. Zabini had called him 'Weasel'. He guessed it was supposed to be a demeaning nickname of some sort, but he had a feeling it was _close _to his actual name. If he knew his name, Henry had a feeling that everything would become clear.

* * *

She knew Harry talked to the teachers as well, because _all _of them seemed to be keeping a close eye on her. Hethought she wouldn't _dare _try to leave with all of them watching her, but it didn't matter. She was a prefect, Head Girl to be exact, and had already paired herself up with Luna while on the train. Their first patrol would be tonight, which meant that tonight, they would escape.

But something was bothering her. She replayed the horrible memory over and over in her mind, trying to discover the reason she hadn't been able to see the thestrals. She was staring right into Ron's eyes when he was hit with the curse, and watched Hermione run to him. They had just admitted to liking each other, which had happened in the form of Hermione snogging Ron senseless after he expressed concern for House-elves. She smiled at the memory, wishing they were there for her to tease about it.

But maybe they _were_! It seemed completely impossible, but why else could she not see the creatures? It _looked _like the curse hit them, but with so many curses flying around, who knew if she had seen right? And there were _no bodies_. Had the two of them been stunned and kidnapped, to be held as leverage when Harry reached Voldemort, to be used as hostages?

_Were they still alive?_

There was now no doubt in her mind that the two of them had survived that night, else she would have seen death. But had Voldemort given up on waiting for Harry and killed them out of impatience? If he had, it made no difference.

But if he _hadn't_…

She had to find Harry fast. There was a chance their best friends were still alive and breathing, there was a chance they could still save them.

Harry had to know. She had to find him even more than before.

* * *

The Owlery was cold that night, but Ginny didn't mind. She waited as Luna summoned her thestral friends, impatiently pacing back and forth. Any moment now, a teacher would barge in and interrupt their escape, she just knew it. They all knew her better than to think she would stay at Hogwarts like a good girl. She _had _to leave.

"They're here!" Luna exclaimed excitedly. Ginny quickly felt the air and with Luna's help mounted one that Luna called Thunder. Just as they were about to depart, Charlie burst through the Owlery doors, followed by McGonagall and Sprout, their faces full of _delight_, for some strange reason.

"Ginny!" Charlie exclaimed, reaching for her and she flew out of the window. "Ginny, wait! We have good news! You have to stay!"

She shook her head. "I _have _to go, Charlie! There's nothing to keep me here!"

"_Wait!_" he screamed, but he was soon out of earshot. Ginny smiled in relief as she soared through the sky, seemingly supported by nothing, completely content.

After a couple hours of searching, she looked down into the forest and saw two figures sitting in a clearing. One was walking in a circle, putting a protection charm on their camp.

Ginny smiled. It was almost too easy. She and Luna soared down towards them, making sure they landed a certain distance away, trying to surprise Harry and Neville as much as possible. She couldn't _wait _to see his face, full of surprise. _Yes_, she could escape no matter how many odds were stacked against her.

She led the way, Luna close behind. Stepping into the clearing, she saw that the charm had been completed already. She smiled her best smile and called out to Harry.

"Hello, Harry!" she said, looking around for signs of movement. She knew he wouldn't be very happy with her, so she decided to persuade him the best she could. "Come on, let us in. If you don't, we're bound to get into trouble, aren't we?"

At that very instant, Snapecame flying out of nowhere, covering her mouth with his hand, his wand to her throat. She stared at Luna, obviously frightened as Zabini held her in a similar way.

"Trouble?" Snape hissed in her ear. "I think you just found it, Miss Weasley."

Ginny quivered in fear. She knew Harry had been right, they were after her, they were trying to _kill _her.

And she had walked right into the trap.

* * *

A/N: Tsk, tsk. Not the smartest move, Gin. Anyway, let me know what you thought of this chapter! :D


	11. Nightmare

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: NIGHTMARE**

THE NIGHT was cold. Harry stared off into the distance as Neville set up the protection circle. To be completely honest, he didn't know where exactly to start. Before setting up camp, Harry and Neville paid a visit to Hermione's house, searching her room for any of the information she gathered. Not finding any of her notes, they had decided to borrow a few books she had been using, some of which had sparse notes and comments written on their pages.

Sitting in the clearing now, Harry realized why there had been no problem getting into Hermione's house; her parents were still in Australia, their memories taken away for protection. They had no idea of Hermione's death, let alone that they _had _a daughter. Someone had to find them and tell them.

But then again, would it really be better that way? Harry wished he could forget, wished he didn't have to face the reality of it all. His two best friends in the world were lost forever to him, and he would never see them again. He wished he didn't have to live in that reality.

Looking at the alternative, Harry sighed, realizing that he was still better off than he would be. Losing the memories of their past, all the experiences the three of them had shared, would make him a completely different person. He knew that if Hermione's parents had a choice, they would rather face their daughter's death than forget her.

But that was something to be dealt with later. For now, they needed to destroy Voldemort, once and for all. He had destroyed families and corrupted the magical world; until he was gone, there would be no chance for peace or happiness.

He had to die.

Still, the situation didn't sit well with Harry. He had to either murder or be murdered; that was all there was to it. If he murdered, he would have the weight of killing another human being pressing on his soul for eternity. But if he _was _murdered, the rest of the magical world would lose hope, they would all fall at the mercy of the Dark Lord.

The choice was clear.

* * *

Neville finished charming the area and sat next to Harry, smiling in delight at having been chosen to accompany the Chosen One on his final quest. He had really come a long way since his first year at Hogwarts, and it was all thanks to the Trio. Without the help and support he received from them, he would still be the weak first year who couldn't cast a spell if his life depended on it. There had been instances when his life _did _depend on it, and thanks to Harry leading Dumbledore's Army, he could do it now.

Still, he wished that there had never been a war in the first place. If there had never been a war, maybe Hermione and Ron would be there with them, enjoying a starry night. If there had never been a war, maybe Dumbledore would still be at Hogwarts, smiling at his students. If there had never been a war, maybe he would have known his parents…

But then again, he wouldn't be the same person he was today. In fact, he would be a completely different person. He wouldn't have been raised by his granny, he wouldn't have ever been in the D.A., he would never have been able to help in a cause such as this—

His life would in no way be the same as it was now. And for the first time, he _liked _his life.

He could _do _things. He could make a difference.

Neville glanced at the hero next to him. Whether or not all this had happened, Harry would always have been a hero to Neville, this much he was sure of. There was something about him that made you want to follow him; he was a natural leader. Harry was one of those people everyone was drawn to, one of those people who could do no wrong, even if he tried.

Yes, Harry would have been the same person. He would just be a little less _stressed_.

"Where do we go from here?" he asked after a few more moments of silence.

Harry sighed. "We look for R.A.B."

"The initials on the note in the locket?" he asked. Harry had spent only about five minutes or so explaining the horcruxes to him, and Neville was still a little bit overwhelmed. Still, it made _sense_; there was no other possible way that Voldemort could have returned.

There was something oddly familiar about the term, though. He remembered Hermione letting something slip about them in one of their tutoring lessons, which had been on the day of her last battle.

"What's a horcrux?" he had asked, intrigued

Hermione blushed. "Nothing important, Neville."

"Seriously, I want to know," he had insisted.

Hermione had sighed. "Dark magic. Something you _really _don't want to know about."

Now that he knew, he understood what Hermione had meant. There was a huge amount of responsibility that came with knowledge, especially critical information such as this. He still felt guilty about it, but when Hermione left to gather some more books, Neville stole a look in her notebook, trying to make sense of her notes. He remembered some names written down, all with the initials 'R.A.B.'; there was one that was circled and starred—

"Regulus Arcturus Black!" he exclaimed.

Harry stared at him. "What did you say?"

"Hermione had it written in her notebook," Neville said, standing in excitement. "She had a bunch of names written down, but this one circled out off all the rest—"

"Of _course!_" Harry said with enthusiasm. "I _knew _I'd seen that locket before! It was at Grimmauld Place!"

"Well, let's go there then," Neville said, smiling as he helped Harry off the ground.

His hero grinned at him, patting his shoulder. "I chose the right man to accompany me."

Neville smiled. For once, he was important. He was valued.

Before they could move any further, however, yells were heard from somewhere in the forest not too many metres away.

"Hello, Harry!" came a familiar voice.

Neville saw Harry's face go ash white. He turned around quickly, reaching for his wand and walking in the direction of the voice. Neville followed anxiously, wishing Ginny would keep her voice down.

"Come on, let us in. If you don't, we're bound to get into trouble, aren't we?"

Harry stopped. They stared at each other. Let _us _in? Who else was with her?

They couldn't think any longer, for at that moment a scream was heard escaping from Ginny's mouth. Harry began running, Neville right on his heels. This would be his first test, just the two of them against who knew how many Death Eaters.

It was time for him to get serious.

* * *

Ginny struggled to wrench herself out of their ex-Professor's strong grip. She tugged and pulled, not moving an inch. Luna was having more success however, and managed to free her wand arm enough to stun Zabini.

"_Run!_" Ginny screamed, and was outraged when Luna hesitated. Suddenly, she _smiled_, and proceeded to stand there gawking at something in front of her. Thinking that Luna was _definitely _loony this time, Ginny whirled around to see the sight she had been longing for. Harry, _her _Harry, was rushing towards her, anger written across his face.

The instant she saw him, however, he disappeared. Snape had apparated, taking her with him, stealing her from the one she loved.

Finalizing her fate.

* * *

"NO!" Harry screamed, sparks flying out of his wand as he attempted to control his anger. "GINNY!"

Luna stared. Ginny was _gone_. The one person who had ever actually befriended her had just been kidnapped.

"WHERE DID HE TAKE HER?" Harry exclaimed, violently pulling Zabini up by the hair on his head. "WHERE ARE THEY?"

Zabini smirked evilly. Luna winced; his hands closing in on her throat had been terrifying, the evil resonating in his once clean soul had almost overpowered her—

At that moment, she felt arms around her. Panicking, she immediately sent her elbow back with as much power as she could muster, only to find that there was no resistance to her attempts to escape. She heard a groan and whirled around to see a grimacing Neville, holding his wounded stomach.

"Nice to see you again, too," he said sarcastically.

"Oh, Neville, I'm _so _sorry!" she exclaimed, quickly running to his side. "I thought you were someone else—"

"Obviously," he said, grinning. She smiled as she stared into his eyes. There was so much to be read in them, so much she wanted to know…

"TELL ME!" Harry interrupted her thoughts. He punched Zabini for what was probably not the first time, standing over his limp body in fury. Luna shivered; she had only ever seen Harry like this once, and it was when his godfather had died in the Ministry of Magic. He was really quite terrifying when he was angry, and she would _hate _to be on the receiving end of that anger.

Zabini smirked again. "You'll never find her, Potter. There's no way—"

He stopped speaking as Harry's wand came to his throat. Any smirk that had existed was gone, any bravery eliminated. He was absolutely scared to death of what Harry was capable of in this state.

"I'm going to give you one last chance," Harry said menacingly, leaning in close to Zabini's face. "Where–is–my–fiancé?"

Zabini cowered under fear. His eyes were wide, his face white.

"I'll lead you to her," he said finally.

Harry stared at him, considering the validity of his statement. Finally, he motioned for Neville to come over, extracting some rope out of his wand.

"Tie him up, Neville," Harry said, his wand still pointed at Blaise's throat. "And confiscate his wand."

As Neville was carrying out these orders, Luna slowly walked to Harry's side. Before she could say anything, however, Harry answered her unvoiced question.

"No, Luna."

She frowned. "Harry, I can _help_—"

He sighed. "_No_. I want the smallest amount of people involved as possible," he paused. "There are already too many."

Luna softly placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him as much as possible.

"You need all the help you can get," she said, smiling kindly.

Harry stared at her for a moment, then shook his head. "If Ginny promised you could come, I'm sorry," he stated, hurt in his voice. "She was never supposed to come—"

"We all care about you, Harry," Luna said quickly. "That's why we all want to help. Besides, all of us have been affected by Voldemort as well as you."

He sighed once more. Neville stood and came to Luna's side.

"She's right, Harry," he insisted. "We're all in this together, and we have to stick together, right?"

Harry looked at the two of them and smiled.

"You sound a lot like two other people I knew," he finally said, shaking his head.

Luna beamed at him. "So you'll let us stay?"

"Apparently, it causes more problems to try and keep people away then to let them stay," he said sadly as he stared into the heavens.

Neville placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing her in excitement. She smiled. She was going to _do _something; she was going to _help_.

* * *

A/N: Yay Neville and Luna! Please let me know what you thought! Review!


	12. Identity

A/N: Well, here is the looooonng awaited next chapter of my story! (I don't know how many people have actually been awaiting it, but I haven't looked at this story for about two years now, or more). For those of you who are just starting this journey with me, I promise that I won't make you wait to so long! And for those of you who are returning, who thought this story was completely dead, I apologize profusely and ask you to hang in a little longer! I promise it won't be two years before I finish this story!

Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**CHAPTER TWELVE: IDENTITY**

"LET GO of me!"

Henry jerked awake at the noise, quickly scanning his surroundings to find the speaker. For a moment, he assumed it was Melanie and felt panic rush through his body as he realized that if it were here, both of them would be killed.

When the source of the voice came into view, he stared in surprise. She wasn't Melanie, but seemed to be around the same age; her hair was the same bright red as his, and her eyes the same blue—even her nose seemed to be a similar shape. While he was looking at her, an image passed through his mind of two kids, a boy and a girl, playing in a garden. A woman ran out of the house behind them and scolded them before rushing them inside. He realized with a shock that the little boy was him.

_She's my sister_, Henry thought in disbelief.

As these thoughts went through his mind, she jerked her head away from her captor, Snape, just enough to meet his eyes. He heard her gasp and saw her eyes widen. With a newfound strength, she broke out of Snape's hold and ran to the bars of Henry's cell. He sat up, and thought he saw tears in her eyes as they stared at each other.

"_Ron?_" she whispered quietly.

* * *

Ginny couldn't believe her eyes. Even though she had considered the possibility that Ron was still alive, she had never actually believedit could be true. She would never forget the way his eyes went blank, his slow and sudden fall to the ground…

"_Ron?_" she said again, "Is that really you?"

All he did was stare back at her, unresponsive. He seemed to be just as surprised to see her and she was to see him.

"Ron, it's _me_, Ginny," she said desperately. "_Please_ say something!"

"Are you my sister?" he asked slowly, his eyes not leaving hers.

"This _isn't _the time to make a joke, Ronald!" she cried, suddenly furious, forgetting the fact that she was completely surrounded by Death Eaters. "Where's Hermione?"

She heard her captor snicker and had the impulse to turn around and punch him where it hurts, but she couldn't take her eyes off of her brother, trying to understand why he wasn't responding to her.

"He's not trying to make a joke, Miss Weasley," Snape said, amused.

A lightbulb seemed to go off in her mind, and everything suddenly became clear.

They lost their memories.

As Snape pulled her to her feet and away from her brother, she saw Ron stand, obviously confused and extremely concerned. She could see the recognition in his eyes and knew that something was coming to the surface.

"Don't believe anything they say!" she yelled as she was pushed down the hall. A look of fear came into his eyes, and he ran to the bars, not knowing what else to do. She heard him call her name, and once again tears flowed out of her eyes, but this time they were tears of gratitude.

_He's alive!_

* * *

"_Ginny_…"

All of the sudden, his mind was flooding with flashbacks: running to catch a train, flying over a majestic castle on a hill, brewing a potion in a bathroom, writing in blood on the wall, sneaking through the halls of the castle with black-haired boy, running from giant spiders in the woods, Melanie lying paralyzed on a hospital bed—

But her name wasn't Melanie.

"_Hermione_," he whispered to himself, sitting down slowly. He remembered meeting Harry his first year at Hogwarts, saving Hermione from the troll, going into the Chamber of Secrets, the Yule Ball, getting on the quidditch team, attending Dumbledore's funeral, searching for horcruxes, taking Hermione in his arms, the feeling of her lips against his—

Everything.

He began gasping for air. How _had _he lost his memory? The last thing he recalled was fighting in the forest, Hermione by his side, dodging killing curses right and left. He heard someone yell for Hermione, turned to protect her if necessary, then everything went black.

_Malfoy_, he thought to himself, his lips tightening in anger. The ferret hadn't meant to hit him with the memory curse—he was aiming for Hermione. When he got in the way, Malfoy had no choice but to take both of them.

But what did he want with Hermione in the first place? Apparently he hadn't been working for Voldemort, else the Death Eaters wouldn't be searching for them. He remembered getting to Hermione's—Melanie's—apartment and finding it deserted and realized that Malfoy was trying to _protect _her.

_He's in love with her!_ He realized suddenly, completely disgusted. The git convinced her that they were engaged, giving her a completely false identity and family in the hopes that she would never remember anything, naively believe everything he said.

Ron smiled despite himself as he thought of this. That was Malfoy's plan, but he hadn't foreseen that she _would _remember something—

Him.

* * *

The door in front of her opened slowly as Melanie held her breath. Six-year-old Penny stuck her head out of the small opening, her eyes wide.

"Hey Penny," Melanie said, smiling.

"Daddy said you were in America, Aunt Mel," the little girl responded, jumping out and hugging her aunt around the legs. Despite the seriousness of her visit, Melanie couldn't help but laugh, and hugged her niece back.

At least, she thought she was her niece.

Hurried footsteps were heard down the hall and a shrill voice, "Penny, what did I say about opening the door without me?"

"It's Aunt Mel, Mum!" the child responded as her mother came into view. Fiona stopped short when she saw Melanie and blinked a couple of times, quickly regaining her composer with her usual smile.

"Come on in, Melanie," she offered warmly. "Why aren't you in the states?"

"It's complicated," Melanie responded, closing the door as she entered the house. "Is John home?"

"He should be in a few minutes," Fiona responded, trying her best to clean the living room so they could sit down. "He took Brian and Sam to the Zoo for the day."

"And Penny didn't want to go?"

"Me and Mummy got our nails painted!" the little girl exclaimed excitedly, holding out her hands for Melanie to see.

"They're beautiful!" Melanie said, grinning from ear to ear.

As she admired Penny's fingernails, the three girls heard the garage door opening and Penny immediately ran to greet her father and two younger brothers. Melanie waited patiently in the living room as the family was reunited from their day apart, watching sadly.

She didn't belong here.

"Mel!" John exclaimed as he entered the room. They embraced as Fiona brought all three children upstairs to get ready for bed.

"What are you doing here?"

She sighed. "I need the truth, John."

He furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not really your sister, am I?"

He stared at her blankly for a second, trying to comprehend her words. "What do you mean?"

She sat, trying her best to retain her composure. "I ran into someone in London, someone who said he was an old friend of mine. He said that my name was Hermione—"

"Mel, what are you talking about, why would we—"

"I don't know!" she exclaimed angrily. "That's what I'm trying to understand!"

John shook his head. "He could have been lying to you. Did he try to sell you anything? Or—"

"Nothing," she responded, more and more confused by the minute. "And I don't think he was lying, John. He showed me newspaper articles—they all assumed I was dead—apparently, I'm famous in their world."

"What do you mean 'their world'?" John asked, sitting next to her.

"I'm a witch."

To her surprise, he actually started laughing. "That's a good one, Mel. You expect me to believe that you belonged to a whole other 'magical world'?"

"Remember those weird things that were happening around me?" she asked desperately. "The baseball coming through the window—"

"The baseball was a coincidence," John insisted with a wave of his hand.

"Then why was there no one on the street?" she pointed out. "And how do you explain the lawn mowing itself?"

Her brother was quiet for a time, considering what she said. She waited for him to respond anxiously, hoping that he could give her some answers. After what seemed to be an eternity, he sat up slightly, his eyes wide.

"You might be right," he said slowly, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I did think it was strange that you had been dating this guy for a year and we didn't know about it. I mean, it wasn't like you to be very secretive—"

"But you don't know anything about magic?" she pleaded.

He shook his head. "Melanie never believed in magic."

She took a deep breath. "So you think—"

"You're not Melanie," he finished, his voice cracking.

An awkward silence followed, neither of them knowing how to react to this realization. After it had been voiced aloud, it was painfully clear to the both of them that it was the absolute truth. Melanie Primly was missing, and Hermione Granger had taken her place in her family. Looking at the pictures on the walls, it really was remarkable how alike the two of them looked, but now both of them could clearly see the slight difference in the nose, Melanie's slightly darker skin, redder hair.

"But if you're not Melanie," he breathed as his wife entered. "Then where is she?"

Hermione stared straight ahead, avoiding Fiona's questioning gaze.

"I don't know."

* * *

A/N: Again, I am sooo sorry that it took me so long to get back to this story, and I really hope that this chapter was enough to make you wait a little bit longer! Anyway, please, please, please review! :D


	13. Secrets

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: SECRETS**

LUNA STUMBLED as they made their way through the forest; Harry didn't trust Zabini enough to let him apparated one of them to the hide-out, afraid that he would lead them into a trap. He thought that the fact that they were walking gave them more of an advantage, because they had more time to react if they were to be attacked and couldn't be taken by surprise so easily. She found this to be a very rational conclusion, even if her feet were extremely sore.

When she tripped for what seemed to be the millionth time, Neville quickly reached out and caught her before she fell. She turned and smiled at him, his arms still around her.

"Thanks," she said serenely.

"Don't mention it," he stuttered, smiling awkwardly.

She continued to smile as they travelled. He really was quite a remarkable boy, one that was not only kind but also extremely brave and intelligent. Others didn't see just how much he had to offer, but she did. There was something very special about him.

At length, Harry and Zabini stopped in front of them. Looking over Harry's shoulder, Luna could discern a small opening in the mountain ahead, just beyond the outskirts of the forest where they were standing.

"In there," Zabini said, his one resigned. "That's where he's hiding out, and that's most likely where Snape brought the Weasley girl—"

His last word was cut off by a punch to the stomach. Luna winced.

"Her name's Ginny," Harry stated clearly, letting Zabini whimper on the ground. With a sigh he set his pack on the ground and pulled out his wand, preparing to make a protection circle around them.

"Take him to headquarters, Neville," he said as he stood, nodding towards the death eater. "Have them see what other information they can get out of him."

Neville nodded obediently and took a hold of Zabini's collar. "Don't try anything," he warned, pressing his wand to his throat.

"Careful, Neville," she whispered as he passed. He smiled shyly at her in response before apparating.

"You wouldn't mind setting up the tent, would you Luna?" Harry asked, his voice tired.

"Of course not," she responded, bouncing over to do just that. She and Harry finished their respective tasks at about the same time and each sat on the ground facing each other. It was silent for a while as Luna closed her eyes and let the wind run through her hair. It wasn't until she heard Harry sigh that she opened them again.

"You shouldn't have helped her," he said softly.

"I wanted to come too," she responded, shrugging it off. "We both just wanted to help."

"And now she's gone."

"Not gone," Luna corrected. "She's only being held prisoner. And we both know that you'll be able to save her."

He shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"I couldn't save Ron and Hermione."

"I'm not so sure about that," she mused, thinking back to that morning when she and Ginny were travelling to the school. "I'm not even so sure that they are dead."

Harry stared at her blankly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, Ginny saw both of them fall," she began. "but when we were getting into the carriages, she couldn't see the thestrals."

Harry almost jumped up off of the ground in excitement.

"Then they didn't die that night!" he exclaimed, running over to her and wrapping her in a tight hug. "They could still be alive!"

She beamed as she saw the old light come back to him, that light she'd seen throughout all their years of school together—Harry really did need to have his friends beside him, else he wasn't as much of a threat.

The problem was that You-Know-Who knew this, and he probably knew that Ron and Hermione hadn't died that night. Armed with this knowledge, he would search for them and kill them himself.

If he wasn't holding them prisoner already.

* * *

Ron opened his eyes slowly as the door to his cage was opened. Wormtail walked towards him, rope in his hands.

"Time to wake up," he sniveled, jerking Ron to his feet and pulling his hands behind his back. "Remember me, Ron?"

"I've never seen you before in my life," he responded. "And for the last time, my name's Henry."

He tried to hide a smirk as Pettigrew snickered. "You're not much of a threat now at all, are you? If you can't remember what you're supposed to be doing, I suppose there's no point in keeping you here."

"Why are you keeping me here anyway?" he asked, again feigning cluelessness.

"That's what you're about to find out," Pettigrew responded, snickering once more as he began leading Ron down the halls. Ron glimpsed his sister lying asleep in one of the cages and felt an almost unbearable urge to call out to her, let her know that he did remember her, that he loved her—

Because he assumed this would be the last time he saw her.

He was almost positive that Pettigrew was bringing him to Voldemort to be tortured and then killed. Even though he wanted desperately to be able to say some last words to his sister, he knew that it was more important that he keep up the ruse that he didn't remember who he was. Yes, he would die tonight, but he wasn't about to give Voldemort any information whatsoever.

As he had expected, the cave opened up to a large room where the Dark Lord sat on a throne, watching him approach. Pettigrew deposited him in the center of the room and took a few steps back, so Ron was alone.

"Mr.—Kindle, was it?" Voldemort asked mockingly.

"Yes," he responded, feigning confusion. "Am I supposed to know you?"

The snake-man raised his eyebrows. "Come, come, Mr. Weasley, we mustn't keep up these pretenses."

"I promise you," he began, taking a step back. "I have no idea who you are, Sir."

Voldemort stared at him for a few moments, his eyes even narrower than usual. Ron could feel probing on his mind and concentrated very hard to limit what he would see to the time when he really didn't know who he was. It wasn't at all easy, but somehow he was able to do it, and in his mind he blessed Hermione a thousand times over for taking the time to teach him Occlumency, no matter how resistant he had been. Even after he had given up on legilimency, the Dark Lord kept his eyes on him attentively, a very puzzled expression on his face.

"You don't remember anything?" he hissed, his puzzlement turning to anger.

"Not at all," he responded, raising his eyebrows. "Could you please explain to my why I'm locked up here?"

The man across the room let out a cry of fury, causing Ron to break his composure and take a few steps back, sincerely afraid of the man in front of him.

"Maybe _this _will help you remember!" he yelled, spinning around and pointing his wand at Ron's left arm. He let out a shriek of pain and dropped to the ground, completely disoriented, shutting his eyes tightly, just wanting the pain to end.

* * *

When he opened his eyes again, he was back in his cell, completely alone. He was lying on his right side rather uncomfortably, staring at the back wall.

_Why does my arm feel so weird? _he thought to himself, pushing himself into a sitting position with his right hand. In horror, he looked down at where his left forearm had been, staring into nothing. He reached over with his right arm and felt tears escape his eyes as he ran his fingers through the air, everything beneath his elbow having been severed, a tourniquet just above his joint.

"There's a spell on it to dull the pain," came a voice from the door. Ron spun around to face his old potions master looking slightly disheveled. "If you don't tell the Dark Lord what he wants to hear within the next hour, he'll remove the spell and the tourniquet. You'll bleed to death, and it will be very painful."

"I don't know anything," he insisted, not even blinking.

Snape shrugged and turned on his heels, leaving the prisoner to his own thoughts. He sighed as he leaned against the wall. If he could just see Hermione one more time, hold her once again, then he would be completely content to die.

He drew solace from the fact that he was dying to save her.

* * *

Hermione walked down the street solemnly, not quite ready to return to Grimmauld Place. No one from the Order even knew that she left her room—she snuck out while they were all in a meeting and caught a cab to her—well, Melanie's—brother's house.

Flashes of memory were now returning—a giant chess board, travelling through time, werewolves, unicorns, hippogriffs—it all just seemed so completely improbable.

But she knew it was real.

In all of her memories she could see Henry—Ron—right by her side, along with the Potter boy mentioned in the articles. She wanted so badly to remember more about the relationship the three of them had, to remember what they were working towards. As of now, she was only guessing.

All of the sudden, she heard rustling in the leaves behind her. Turning quickly, she saw Mark emerging from the trees. Her eyes narrowed in anger and her hand went to her wand, though she didn't remember how to use it.

"Melanie, let me explain—" he began.

"My name's Hermione," she interrupted. "You know that."

He nodded in response. "I'm sorry for taking away your memory. No doubt you remember everything now—"

"No, I don't," she shouted, rage running through her veins. "I don't even know your real name. What I _do _know is that there is a real Melanie Primly out there, one who conveniently looks very similar to me, and who is _missing_."

"She's not missing," he sighed, regret covering his features, taking her completely by surprise.

"She's dead."

* * *

A/N: Soooo, what's going to happen next? See, I promised you I wouldn't make you wait a year! :D Thanks to all who have reviewed, even after so long, and I hope you continue to enjoy this story!


	14. Reconciliation

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: RECONCILIATION**

"DEAD?" HERMIONE whispered, lowering her wand subconsciously.

"I didn't kill her," Mark said hurriedly. "She was dead before I even knew who she was."

"How?" Hermione breathed.

"Plane crash," he responded. "That's why they told you the amnesia was from an accident."

"What did you do with her body?" she pressed, more and more confused by the minute.

"I buried her at the site of the crash," he responded painfully. "Believe me, Hermione, I did all of this for you—"

"You lied to a family and told them I was their daughter, sister, and aunt," she said through clenched teeth. "How does that benefit either of us?"

"They would have killed you," he said, his voice strained. "My father stunned you and Ron on orders—he was supposed to take you as hostages. I saw it happen, I tried to stop it, but I couldn't. I knew I had to keep you safe, and so I took away your memories, hoping that would keep you out of trouble. I thought bringing you to America would be more than adequate to keep you safe—"

"Why would you want to keep me safe?" she demanded, completely bewildered. "You work for him, don't you? The Dark Lord?"

"I did," he admitted shamefully. "But I don't anymore."

"But why me?" she pushed. "And why Ron?"

He sighed. "I protected Ron because you love him."

Hermione blinked. _I love him?_ she thought to herself, frantically trying to remember what their relationship had been before their memories were taken away.

"Why should that make you want to protect him?" she asked, putting aside her own thoughts for now.

To her surprise, his face grew very sad, and his eyes focused on the ground.

"Because I love you."

She held back a scoff and shook her head. "How could someone who loved me take away my memory?"

"It was for your protection!" he insisted, taking a step closer. "I didn't know what else to do!"

"How about take me somewhere safe for the fight and then let me go free?" she spat at him.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft. "I'm so, so sorry Hermione. I would do anything for you—give you anything you want!"

"I want my memory back!" she screamed at him, fury filling her entire being.

He sighed. "My name is Draco Malfoy. I was a Slytherin at Hogwarts, and you broke my nose in our third year. I was supposed to kill the headmaster, Dumbledore, but couldn't bring myself to do it, so Snape, the potions master, killed him instead. Any of that ring a bell?"

"Can't you just do a spell or something to restore my memory?" she asked, annoyed.

He shook his head sadly, causing her to groan. "Unfortunately, that's not possible. In fact, most people aren't expected to regain any of their memory after they are subject to a memory charm. It's incredible that you and Ron even recognized each other."

Her eyes widened. "That's it."

"What's it?"

"I need to find him," she exclaimed, pocketing her wand. "If I recognized him, maybe he's the key to bringing back my memory."

"Wait!" Malfoy yelled, chasing after her as she began to walk back towards Grimmauld Place. "I know where he is!"

She stopped dead in her tracks. "Where?"

"He's being held prisoner by the Dark Lord."

Her face fell. She knew that there was no way she would be able to get in there in her present condition, with no memory of ever battling him or his followers. Entering his lair would be a literal suicide. She felt Malfoy's hand on her shoulder and resisted the urge to shrug him off, knowing that he meant well. But she didn't see what he could do—

"I'm going to help you," he said definitively. "I can get in and out; they think I'm one of them. Besides that, I know for a fact that your friends, Harry, Luna, and Neville, are there right now trying to form a plan. I think we should find them and join together."

She stared blankly at him for a moment before nodding her head. With a smile, he took her hand and they apparated into darkness.

* * *

Ginny slowly awoke on the cold, damp floor, shivering. She scanned her surroundings, realizing that she was in a dungeon of some sort, and memories of the night before came back to her. How could she have been so _stupid_? Sadly, she realized that Harry had been right to not bring her along. Someone who would announce themselves to the enemy was hardly cut out to help find the horcruxes.

She was just grateful that Luna had been holding her purse, which held all of Hermione's notes. If Voldemort got his hands on those, it would all be over—he would know what they were up to, and there would be practically no way to fight him anymore.

The room was extremely quiet, but Ginny could discern sniffling from the other side of the wall. She crawled over and found a small opening, pressing her eye to it. She caught a glimpse of red hair and her heart jumped a beat.

"Ron?" she said. She saw him pause and turn slightly in her direction.

"Hey Gin," he said softly.

She felt like she was going to cry hearing his voice. "They said you lost your memory—"

"I did."

"How did you remember?"

"You," he said, and she could tell from his tone that he was smiling. "As soon as I saw you, memories started coming. I'm so sorry I didn't immediately recognize you, Gin—"

"I thought you were dead!" she exclaimed, doing her best to keep her voice low. "I was just happy to see you breathing! There's so much to tell you, Ron, I—"

He shushed her as footsteps were heard coming down the hall. She felt panic inside, knowing that one of the two of them was probably going to be taken, and there was a chance that they would never come back.

"Listen," he said quickly. "They don't know that I remember anything, and I want it to stay that way. No matter what happens, no matter what you see or hear, stay silent."

"But—"

"I love you, Gin," he whispered, tears obviously welling up in his eyes. "And when you get out of here, find Hermione, and make sure she knows how much I love her. I'm afraid she won't remember."

Ginny opened her mouth to speak, but Ron had already moved away from the wall, pretending that the conversation had never happened. She backed away as well just as she saw Wormtail walk past her cage. He leered at her and she shuddered.

"Up," he commanded when he reached Ron's cell. She heard her brother stand on the murky floor and the door of his cell open and close slowly. As they walked in front of her cage, Ginny gasped loudly, clamping her hands over her mouth.

Her brother was missing an arm.

She saw pain in his face when he heard her gasp, but knew he was trying very hard to hide that he was feeling anything. She kept her promise and stayed quiet, but she wanted to scream, to curse Voldemort in every way. Instead, she wept silently as she watched her brother walk down the hall, on his way to be executed, completely powerless.

* * *

Rustling was heard in the trees, and Harry sat up a little straighter. He assumed that it was Neville returning from Grimmauld Place, and let out a sigh of relief. Not only had he been worried that Zabini might get the best of Neville, but he also needed help figuring out how to approach this problem. They couldn't simply walk into Voldemort's lair; they had to have a plan.

He frowned as he thought of this. 'Planning' had always been Hermione's department, and he'd never really appreciated it up till now. Some of what the three of them accomplished seemed to be absolutely impossible, and if it weren't for Hermione, it would have been. He needed her there, to help him. Even more than that, he desperately wanted to hear her voice once again, to see her smile. He missed her so much…

He turned to greet Neville and stopped dead in his tracks. At first he thought it was his imagination playing tricks on him, but there she was, standing on the outskirts of the forest. He wondered if he was dreaming and almost pinched himself, but couldn't force his body to even make such a small movement. He had absentmindedly stepped outside of the circle, and the two of them stared at each other, each at a loss for words.

"Harry?" she finally breathed, a smile creeping on her lips. At the sound of her voice, Harry heard a sob escape his throat. Within seconds, he had his arms around her, holding her tighter than he had even thought possible. She embraced him in return, tears escaping her eyes.

"Why didn't you get in contact with me?" he asked as they separated. "I thought you were dead! Where's Ron? What's happened?"

"Slow down," she insisted, smiling slightly. Harry was absolutely beaming and embraced her again, hardly believing that this was really happening. He needed the physical contact to prove to him that he wasn't hallucinating, but even then he had his doubts.

"I didn't contact you," she began when he released her for a second time. "because I didn't remember you."

Harry blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Malfoy used a memory charm on me," she answered, and his eyes burned. "He used one on Ron as well. But he was only trying to help—"

"By taking away your memories?" Harry insisted.

She rolled her eyes. "I know it's not the best plan, but he was trying to keep us safe."

"How did you regain your memory?" he asked, puzzled, remembering Lockhart's condition even years after.

She smiled painfully. "I still don't remember everything, just bits and pieces. But it all started when Ron and I saw each other."

Harry grinned in response, but soon grew serious once more. "So you've seen him? Where is he?"

Hermione sighed. "Voldemort has him."

Harry's eyes widened in horror. Now they not only had to rescue his fiancé, but his best man as well. As he thought of this, he looked into Hermione's eyes and saw a glint of excitement in them.

He smirked. "You have a plan, don't you?"

"You're not going to like it," she sighed.

"Anything to save them," he stressed.

She nodded turned. "You can come out now."

Harry watched as none other than Draco Malfoy appeared out of the woods, blood boiling in his veins. "I thought you said _he _took away your memories?"

"Yes, in an effort to _help _us," she repeated as Malfoy walked to her side.

"And how exactly are you going to help us?" he demanded, his rage growing.

"I'm going to get you inside," the Slytherin responded, not being able to hide his smirk.

Harry eyed him suspiciously, having no idea if he could trust him or not. He met Hermione's eyes and sighed. She was pleading silently with him, making it evident that for some reason or other, she trusted Malfoy. He shook his head, but put his wand in his back pocket.

"All right," he said. "What's the plan?"

* * *

A/N: So what did you think? This is very much a transition chapter, but there will be more action soon. Thanks for reading, and please review!


	15. Rescue

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: RESCUE**

LONGBOTTOM RETURNED moments after Hermione and Draco arrived, having left Zabini with Hagrid back at Grimmauld Place. He positively squealed when he saw her, and Draco thought that she would never be able to breathe again after how tightly he had hugged her. Loony Lovegood stepped out of the tent at the sound of Longbottom's voice and smiled widely at her friend from across the clearing. After the excitement passed, the five of them sat on the ground in a circle, Potter, Longbottom, and Loony anxiously looking to Hermione for a plan. Draco sat very uncomfortably next to her, knowing full well that he didn't belong here, no matter how much he wanted to help.

"There are two death eaters guarding the entrance to the cave at all times," began Hermione. "But beyond that, the majority of them stay deeper within the lair. So the first, and easiest, step will be to get past them. Malfoy will go up and offer each of them one of these—"

She reached into her purse and took out two small cupcakes that looked very familiar. Potter caught her eye when she produced these and she smiled wickedly.

"Filled with a sleeping draught?" he asked, laughter in his voice.

"It's one of the few things I remember," she answered, her eyes twinkling.

Draco frowned. He wished he knew what they were talking about.

"But won't that seem a little bit suspicious to them?" Longbottom asked, and Draco was satisfied to see that he, too, didn't know the history behind the sleeping draught cupcakes.

"No," he answered before Hermione could open her mouth. "Not tonight, anyway. Crabbe and Goyle are guarding."

At these words, he thought Potter had completely lost his mind. He doubled over in laughter, laying flat on the ground as he shook. Wide-eyed, Draco turned to see Hermione's reaction and was surprised to see that she was stifling a laugh. Like him, Longbottom and Looney were staring at their two friends, not seeing what was supposed to be so funny.

"All right," Potter finally stammered as he brought himself back up to a sitting position. "So Crabbe and Goyle fall asleep and we get inside. How do we find Ron and Ginny?"

"I know where the cells are," responded Draco. "I'll lead you to them. Once we get closer, we'll encounter a larger group of guards, about ten or so, and have to find a way around them."

"Disillusionment charms," Hermione clarified. "But we won't be able to just sneak by and leave it at that. We'll have to attack them while we're unseen, as silently as possible of course, so they won't interfere. I was thinking a body-bind curse."

"Petrificus Totalus," said Potter, another smile sneaking to the edges of his mouth.

Hermione nodded, returning his smile. "Alohamora won't work to free them, but one of the guards should have the keys, so it shouldn't be a problem. While we take care of that, Malfoy'll get Ginny's wand and meet us back here."

"I don't like the idea of them being unarmed," Loony said, speaking for the first time. "What if an alarm is triggered?"

"They won't be unarmed," Hermione answered, suddenly smiling. "Neville, you still have Zabini's wand?"

Longbottom nodded slowly, retrieving it from inside his robes.

"We'll give that to Ginny once we have her," Hermione explained.

"What about Ron?" Longbottom asked.

After a short pause, Draco reached into the bag by his feet and took out Weasley's wand, forcing a smile. He extended his hand to Potter, who took the wand out of his hands almost immediately. Draco breathed a huge sigh of relief, glad to finally be rid of it.

"And that's all?" Potter asked. "We get in, get out, and don't even have to see Voldemort?"

"It shouldn't be necessary," Hermione said, glancing at Draco to confirm her words. He nodded. Potter sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, obviously troubled by something. For a moment, Draco thought it was because he was still wondering if he should trust him, but was surprised when he opened his mouth.

"What I wouldn't _give _to be able to finish him off tonight!" said Potter, anger in his voice.

"Why don't you?" Hermione asked, confusion in his voice.

Her friends stared at her for a moment before remembering that she hadn't yet regained all of her memory. "It's slightly complicated," Potter began, biting his lip. "Voldemort split his soul into seven parts years ago and put them into different objects. Until all of these objects, called horcruxes, are destroyed, he can't be killed."

Hermione's eyes opened wide at this and she suddenly stood.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, excited. "R.A.B. is Regulus Arcturus Black! I didn't get to tell you that night, but it was all in my notes, I don't know if you found them—"

"Ginny found them," said Potter hurriedly. "and Neville figured out who R.A.B. was last night, though it would have been nice to know before then."

Hermione smiled painfully at him. "Well, at least I can help with the rest."

"We don't have it yet," Potter clarified, his spirits low. "Or the other three that still need to be destroyed before I can kill him."

"You need the locket, the cup, the diadem, and Nagini, correct?" Draco said suddenly.

Everyone in the clearing stared at him, completely dumbfounded. He could tell that they were second guessing their choice to trust him. Without another word, he reached into his bag and removed three of the four objects he had mentioned, setting them on the ground before his former enemies. Their jaws dropped.

"Is this some kind of joke, Malfoy?" Potter finally asked.

He shook his head. "I overheard my father talking to the Dark Lord about them one day and decided to investigate. I didn't entirely understand what they were, but I knew that they were important to the Dark Lord, so I took them all and hid them. When I decided to join you, I thought you had better use for them than I did, whatever they were."

His eyes became suddenly fierce and he stood, shaking head to toe. "I want him dead just as much as all of you, if not more. He's taken anything that was good in my life and anyone who cared about me away, just as he has with most of his Death Eaters. I can guarantee you that if it appears the war is being lost, some of them will come to your side. Even if I wasn't here now, I know I would."

The clearing was completely silent for a number of minutes. He stood there fuming, not really knowing how to calm himself or why he'd just opened himself up to these people he barely knew and who hated him. But it felt _so good_ to have finally said, to have sided once and for all with those who were going to kill the monster that had tried to take over his life.

Finally, Potter stood as well and held out his hand. Draco stared at it for a moment, then raised his eyes. Potter was smirking.

"You shake it, Draco," he explained.

Draco smirked back and took Harry's hand in his, shaking it firmly.

"Looks like we are going up against him tonight," Harry stated matter-of-factly when they had released each others' hands. He turned to Longbottom and Loony, who were both standing at this point. "Go back to headquarters and let everyone know the time has come. Meanwhile, Hermione, Draco, and I will go ahead and get Ron and Gin."

They hurried to do as they were told, excitement filling the air. As they left, Harry stared at the three objects that were lying on the grass, a strange look on his face.

"Now to take care of you," he said, pulling out his wand. He shook as he pointed it to the locket, and Draco was shocked to hear the curse which passed over his lips.

"_AVADA KADAVRA!_"

A horrible screaming sound filled the night air as the three of them dropped to the ground, covering their ears. An apparition of what could only be Voldemort removed itself from the locket, frantically searching for somewhere to survive. With one final screech, it exploded in the air, leaving the clearing as silent as before.

"One down," breathed Harry, not able to suppress a smile as he pointed his wand at the diadem.

* * *

Ginny sat shaking in the corner of her cell, all of her tears having already been shed. Ron had been gone for an hour now, and she was fairly certain that he was never coming back. There was no way he wasn't dead by now.

As she thought this, she heard hurried footsteps down the hall and strained her neck to see who they might be. In seconds, she was on her feet, her face against the bars, gaping at the people standing on the other side. Hermione smiled at her, looking very much alive and well, and Harry ran to the bars and reached inside, taking her hand in his.

"How did you get in here?" she asked, not being able to wipe the smile off of her face.

"We had a little help," said Harry, nodding his head in the direction that more footsteps were coming from. Ginny was shocked to see Malfoy round the corner, the keys to the cells in his hands. He gave her a small smile before unlocking her door, and she was immediately out of the cell and wrapping her arms around her fiancé, both of them holding each other tighter than they'd ever thought possible. As they parted, she heard Hermione's stressed and panicked voice from across the hall.

"Where's Ron?" she asked, looking from cell to cell in anticipation.

All of the happiness Ginny had felt was suddenly gone, and she looked into Harry's eyes fearfully. "They took him for interrogation," she said quickly. "He's been gone for an hour—"

"Where would that be, Draco?" asked Harry as Hermione covered her mouth with her hands.

"This way," said Malfoy, leading them down the hall. They walked in silence, not wanting to attract any attention to themselves until they needed to. Harry quietly told her about how Malfoy had found three of the horcruxes, and now all that was left was for Nagini and Voldemort himself to be destroyed. She almost squealed with excitement at this news, but held the emotion back. Hermione handed her a wand which she could only assume was Zabini's, and Harry warned her to stay as far away from the fighting as possible.

As if that was going to happen. This was going to be the day that Voldemort was brought down once and for all, and she wasn't about to miss that, especially after all she and those that she loved had been through. She was going to be right there in a front row seat fighting as hard as she could for the man that she loved.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for the short wait for this one! Going to college definitely is not all fun and games. Anyway, please review! I only have about a chapter or two left :D


	16. Chapter 16

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: LOVE**

Ron screamed as the cruciartus curse was cast on him once more. They must have been interrogating him for an hour now. He'd managed to keep playing dumb, despite the amount of pain he was in.

When he was finally released from the curse, he struggled to make sense of Voldemort's words.

"_Take off the tourniquet! Let him bleed!_"

Immediately, the cloth was removed from Ron's arm. They removed the soothing spell as well, because he felt a searing pain. He did all he could not to cry out—he didn't want to give the Dark Lord the satisfaction.

Blood dripped from Ron's arm onto the ground. He watched a puddle begin to form around him. Soon, he was too weak to support himself even on his knees—he collapsed to the ground, his vision blurring, praying for the pain to end.

"This is your last chance," Voldemort hissed, standing above him. "Tell me where she is, and I might spare your life."

Ron used the little strength he had left to sit up and spit in his face. The Dark Lord glared at him and turned as Ron collapsed once more, all his energy gone. It wouldn't be long now.

"Looking for me?"

Everyone turned toward the voice. Ron strained to see what was happening. Through the crowd, he caught a glimpse of someone standing in the doorway, someone with curly brown hair—

"Hermione, no!"

* * *

Hermione stared at Ron, trying to hide the terror she was feeling. He was covered in blood, and his left arm was gone. Judging by how weak his voice was, he only had minutes left.

Voldemort turned to face him. "So you do remember her," he hissed.

"Get out of here!" Ron tried to yell. He was so weak—

The Dark Lord raised his wand and pointed it at Ron. Hermione felt a wave of panic and lifted hers as well.

"_Expelliarmus!_" she yelled before Voldemort could cast his spell. He was pushed violently to the side, away from Ron. Death Eaters rushed to seize her, but were met with curses from Harry, Malfoy, and Ginny. The minute they were down, however, more Death Eaters took their place. The four of them were drastically outnumbered.

Suddenly, Neville and Luna burst into the room, followed by an army of people. Hermione recognized some of them, but couldn't have told you who they were even if she'd had enough time to think about it. For the time being, she simply accepted that they were on her side.

The man she was fighting fell to the ground, hit by someone else's curse. Hermione rushed through the chaos to Ron's side. This world was still foreign to her—she only remembered a few spells, a few faces. If Ron was gone, she was afraid she'd never remember anything else.

Somehow, she remembered how to put up a protection shield. She surrounded herself and Ron with it and ripped off part of her sleeve.

"Hermione, leave me," Ron whispered. "It's too late—you'll get hurt—"

"Shut up, Ronald," she muttered, as she shakily tied the fabric around his arm.

"I've lost too much blood. You need to defend yourself—"

"I said shut up!"

Without warning, she leaned down and kissed him, surprising them both. She gasped as memory after memory came back to her. She remembered everything, everything they'd been through, everything they'd done—

And how much she loved him.

Tears filled her eyes and she kissed him again. He was so weak. If she didn't do something right now, he was going to die.

* * *

The battle was chaotic, especially for Malfoy. A number of times members of the Order tried to face him. In response, he'd send a curse to the closest Death Eater. They were all confused—the Death Eaters as well. He was defending himself from both sides, which didn't leave much time for him to really help.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione next to Weasley on the ground. She was kissing him. His heart sank, but he didn't have time to focus on that right now. They were in the middle of a battle—

And her protection shield was disappearing.

She was vulnerable—she wasn't paying attention to anything around her. That wasn't like her, but then again, she wasn't exactly herself. If he hadn't taken away her memory, maybe she wouldn't have been so stupid. He rushed towards her, dodging spells. As he did, he saw Voldemort approach as well, arm outstretched.

"NO!"

A green light shot out of the Dark Lord's wand. Draco jumped between him and Hermione, in the path of the green light. He screamed—

Then everything went black.

* * *

Hermione saw the green light. She jumped up, knowing it was futile, but unable to control her instincts. Suddenly, Malfoy appeared in front of her, and just as quickly collapsed on the ground.

She didn't have time to dwell on the fact that Malfoy had just died to save her. Before Voldemort could cast the killing curse again, she threw up another protection spell and starting casting curses at him from behind it. He easily blocked all of them, advancing on her. Her heart beat wildly. Even with her memory back, she was no match for Voldemort, and they still had to kill Nagini—

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the snake. Thinking fast, she sent her protection spell to Ron, shielding him from the fighting, and pointed her wand at the snake. Voldemort's eyes widened.

"NO—"

"_AVADA KADAVRA!_"

Hermione felt a shock as the green light emerged from her own wand. The snake lunged toward her, but recoiled as the curse hit it. A smile momentarily passed over Hermione's lips—the last horcrux was destroyed.

Suddenly, she felt cold hands clamp around her throat. She struggled to breathe as Voldemort tightened his hold, his face just inches away from hers.

"_HOW MANY_?"

Hermione couldn't have answered if she'd wanted to. Her airway was completely closed now.

"All of them."

Harry stepped toward them. The rest of the fighting had stopped. Hermione saw concern in his eyes, but he didn't let it overwhelm him. He appeared calm.

"_What did you say_?" Voldemort hissed. She thought she heard fear in his voice.

"It's over, Tom. All your horcruxes are gone."

Voldemort let out a sound that resembled a growl. He threw Hermione to the ground and whirled to face Harry. She gasped for air.

The Dark Lord and Harry circled each other. Everyone watched, eyes riveted, waiting for one of them to make their move.

At the same moment, they each drew their wands.

"_AVADA KADAVRA!_"

Voldemort crumbled to the ground. Harry's wand hand shook as he stared at the dead body in front of him. The entire room was silent.

"LONG LIVE POTTER!" Neville cheered.

The rest of the Order joined him. Ginny wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. The Death Eaters were scattering. Members of the Order went after them, rounding them up for arrest. Many of the Death Eaters surrendered.

It was over.

The minute it was clear there would be no more fighting, Hermione scrambled back to Ron's side. He was barely breathing. Though she'd tied the tourniquet around his arm, it wasn't strong enough to completely stop the bleeding. She hastily tightened it, fear filling her heart.

"We won," he breathed, a small smile on his face.

"Yes, we did," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Everything will go back to normal now. Everything will be all right."

Ron weakly shook his head. "No, Hermione. Not for me."

She punched his good arm. "Stop it. Right now. You're going to be fine."

Harry hurried over to join them, followed closely by Ginny. Ron sent them each a weak smile. Tears came to his eyes. Hermione's lip quivered.

"Hang in there, Ron," Harry said, kneeling on the ground next to him. "Help is on the way."

Ron just shook his head again. He met Hermione's gaze and managed to bring his right hand up to her cheek. He whispered so quietly that she had to read his lips.

"I love you."

* * *

Hermione stood in the graveyard, alone. Everyone else had already left the funeral, but she couldn't. She stared at his tombstone, trying to gain a hold of her emotions.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned. John was approaching, a small smile on his face. She did her best to smile back at him. She'd contacted Melanie's parents and explained to them (without including any information about magic) who she was and what really happened to their daughter. After the tears were shed, they contacted the police and searched for Melanie's body where her plane had crashed. Hermione had known the funeral was today, but didn't feel it would be appropriate to show up.

"Hello, John."

"Hello, Hermione." There was pain in his voice, but he hid it well. "Glad you remembered who you are."

"Me too."

They stared at each other for a minute before either of them spoke.

"I'm so sorry, John," she sighed. "I wish I could be Melanie for you, I really do—"

He shook his head. "It wasn't your fault she died. It was an accident. And it's not your fault what happened after either—you were tricked just as much as us, if not more."

Hermione stared at the tombstone again. "I guess you're right."

John followed her gaze. "Did you know him?"

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

A knot formed in her throat. "A friend."

"I'm sorry. Were you close?"

She hesitated. "No, not really. But he died protecting me."

"He did?"

She nodded. "He loved me."

John put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. "Again, I'm sorry."

Hermione stared at Draco's tomb again. She was still sort of in shock. She found herself wishing she'd gotten the chance to actually get to know him to understand better who he was. Now she would never really now.

After a minute, she turned toward John and forced a smile. "It was nice to see you again, John. Best of luck."

She headed toward the street. John followed her.

"Mum and Dad were wondering if you wanted to have tea tomorrow."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Well, it's up to you, but we would all like to have you."

Hermione hesitated. "If you're sure."

"I am." He smiled at her. "And so are they."

She smiled back. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Silently, she walked back to her car, alone. A very small weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Maybe they didn't blame her after all.

The drive to the hospital was long, but it didn't bother her. Once she got there, she headed upstairs. When she reached the room, Harry and Gin sat outside, Gin's wedding plans spread across both of their laps. Hermione suppressed a laugh.

"Why are you in the hall?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "He wouldn't let us stay in there. Said we were making him sick."

"I wonder why," she chuckled. Ginny stuck her tongue out at her. Hermione just laughed more.

Cautiously, she opened the door. Using his right hand—his only hand—Ron pushed himself up on the bed. He beamed at her.

"Hey there."

"Hey yourself."

She sat in a chair at the edge of the bed and took his hand in hers.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine. How was the funeral?"

"Small."

Ron nodded. "That's what Harry and Gin said."

"He had no friends," she said sadly. "Even most of his family didn't come. No wonder he joined the Death Eaters—it was the only place he was valued."

Ron didn't say anything. Hermione sighed and rested her head against his chest, releasing his hand. He stroked her hair.

"I wish I could have done something for him," she muttered.

"You couldn't have done anything."

"That doesn't change the fact that I wish I could."

Ron kissed the top of her head. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, staring at the walls.

"So Harry and Ginny are planning a wedding out there," Ron said.

Hermione laughed. "I know. Ginny's determined to make it even grander than their last."

"And what kind of a wedding would you want?"

She raised her eyebrows as she sat up and looked at him. "We're not talking about marriage _now_, are we Ronald?"

He shrugged. "I was just curious. Though I understand if you're not interested in men with only one arm."

She punched his good shoulder. "Not funny."

Ron smirked anyway. "I'm just making conversation."

"Well, when I do get married, I want a small wedding—just family and close friends. And I want it muggle-style—no magic."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Well, what would you want?"

"To see you walking down the aisle."

"Ron—"

"I'm serious. That's all I want."

A small smile formed on Hermione's lips. She rested her head on his chest again, thinking about all they'd been through, especially in the last four months. Even though marriage wasn't something she wanted to rush into, she couldn't imagine her life with anyone but Ron.

"I love you," Ron whispered.

Hermione closed her eyes. "I love you too."

* * *

**A/N: **So I know that's a rushed ending, and not very well-written, but I wanted to be able to call this one 'done.' Thanks so much to all of you who read it! :)


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